caring trumps suicide

chest pains; a new one. there's beard burn on my chest below the hollow part that aches. it's from Pants. he rubs my heart until I moan.
I cried in the shower again today. it's been a year since dru died. tomorrow it will be a year since I got the text from ex-otter saying, "my brother is dead."
I don't know what I feel right now. pain, and numbness. confusion. sorrow. regret. anger. helplessness. definitely helpless.
I want to sob but I can't. even laying in the shower, letting the water fill the bottom of the bathtub, thinking again about dying... it was hard to cry.
I want someone to hold me.
I can't do this alone.

I have been feeling remorse. I have been thinking a lot about my ex-husband. I have been wishing I'd been kinder. I have been thinking, "right person, wrong time." I am sensing a theme.
I tried to explain to Pants that you can't just have all the right elements and expect things to work. there must be an order to it. I don't think I explained it very well.
I've been painting again.
I miss ex-otter. I miss ex-husband. I miss von. I feel so out of control right now. Again, a passenger in my own life. a slave to past decisions.
"we are all products of our environment." how many times have I said that lately?

public problems today are the result of public policy yesterday. that's what my policy analysis professor taught us. but that is life too. the decisions we make today to "fix" problems will create our future problems. right? unless you deal with the root of things. What is my root?
where am I growing?

ache in my chest, rash just below from Pant's scruff as he labored to fill the space that was left behind one year ago.
"it never stops."
"it always hurts."

no wonder I think so much about dying.