I was taking my usual walk in the park yesterday evening, this time right before sunset.
The honeysuckle have wilted, but it seems the dandelions are everywhere. I stopped, thinking to make a wish, when the whole thing fell to the ground before I even breathed.
My wish literally never got off the ground.
And now it’s gone forever.
This time it’s my grandmother. In the hospital. Not dead, but without life. My stupid, selfish wish that I hadn’t fucked around so much that not a single grandparent would see me graduate.
Stupid. Selfish. She’s bleeding to death, not even conscious, and this is what I wished for.
Or would have, anyway.
And I hit an all-time low when I realized that I was grieving on a porn board. In my defense, I did try to get in touch with a couple of other people first, including The Guy who, despite all assurances, simply up and disappeared again.
Grieving. On a porn board. While I know that these are “real people” with “real <insert thing to say when people argue against the “it’s not just a porn board” complaint>,” the bottom line is that, there is one single common denominator.
And that’s where I was. And I don’t fit in. I haven’t fit in since I’ve been there, really, judging by some of the conversations that take place. Too vanilla. Too traditional. Too prudish.
But I was there, and I was grieving, and I was talking about my grandmother on a freaking porn board.
And that made me realize it was time to move on. Despite all of the good things that have come from it (and, really, a lot have), it’s over. Done. Another chapter of my life closed.
And the drama that I thought died with my grandfather is alive and well again, all over again. Getting her to sign a POA the other day, telling her it was for release of information. While she was in the hospital, they’ve been in the house with the key that’s on the keyring from the stolen truck.
And so I’m angry and grieving and hypersensitive.
And I still have a paper to write, and the more I write on it, the fewer pages it has. I haven’t exactly understood that, other than I AM actually beginning to understand theory and therefore are cutting crap parts out.
But it’s still far too short. I’m way too tired, and I only have three days.
And all I wanted to write about was pretty flowers and stolen Emerson. I guess that’ll have to wait.