I just re-read my last post.

Am I a jerk, or what? "It's a good thing that Larry died..."

I think my point was made, but... sheesh.

I don't know. I mean, death is one the few things that I've been sheltered from. The last time somebody relatively close to me died was... 2006? And even then, I was away at academy, so I never really had to face it. They just weren't at church anymore when I went home on breaks. Before that was Aunt Vi, but we weren't very close, either. Before that was Great Gramma. I cried over that one. I did love her.

By far the most traumatic and memorable, however, was when I was 5. Great grampa. We were best friends, he and I (at least I thought so). He would sit sprawl-legged on the floor with me, and we would roll an orange back and forth between the two of us. Sometimes my aim was bad, and the orange would roll up his pants leg! He would jump around and say, "There's a bug in my pants! Somebody get that bug out of my pants!" What a kick I got out of that. :)

When he died of lung cancer, I crawled underneath his bed and wouldn't come out. The next thing I remember is sitting next to Mom and crying my heart out as they wheeled him past us and through the doors on a covered stretcher.

I grieve pretty deeply when animals die. Did I think that a human friend of mine would evoke any less of a reaction?

It just freaks me out to feel so much sorrow... so my mind is blocking it out... drugging myself with inadequate sleep and internet over-usage and country music.

I think it will really hit me come Friday night... when he's not at group. Boy. That's going to be hard.

How... how can he just be GONE?! Quite frankly, it ticks me off! It's like, nothing is safe. Nothing. Why even bother to get close to anyone? They might just keel over. Or get smashed. Or drown. Or any number of ways that one could cease to exist.

Why are my abusers still alive, yet my friend, a good man, is dead? If anyone is going to stop breathing, let it be the ones who inflict so much pain.

I don't understand all this. I don't get why this has to be. I was just getting used to the idea of pain as something that you don't necessarily need to run away from, or anesthetize yourself from, and... now this. What good does this pain do? I almost want to say, Let me be the one to sleep. Then I won't have to hurt for the one who is gone. However, my passing would leave just as much pain behind.

So, then... pain is the reality of life. I see.

I really, really need to sleep.

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