what do these things all have in common?
They’re stressing me the hell out.
I’m not just talking about Prince, or Michelle McNamara or whatever other famous person 2016 has cruelly stolen away from us so far.
Last night my best friend, the love of my life got a text that read something like “Call me tomorrow, need to talk to you about someone else -dad”
Nothing anxiety-inducing about that, right? So after a restless night wondering who he could be talking about and why, we get the answer just as I’m on my way to work. Well HE got the answer, I had to wait until I’d already arrived for my shift. One of his close childhood friends was involved in a fairly horrific motorcycle accident and died.
So now I’m left to sit at my desk with my head reeling, full of thoughts about rushing home, about cancelling my visit to my cousin’s first communion tomorrow, wondering how on earth I can make this better.
But he said he’d rather be alone. That this is just one more awful thing in a string of awful things that he will just have to get over on his own terms.
The hardest thing about loving someone is when they’re hurting and there’s nothing you can do except try not to make it worse.
And with my plate being as full as it is I’m stuck thinking about all the things I have made worse because of my inability to properly channel my stress into that music I want to learn, or that writing I want to do, and instead piled that stress on to him. All the times I’ve been too short on patience and too quick to take offense.
Not to mention I have to spend tomorrow away from my pained loved one to spend it in a church. The one place that never makes anyone ponder past sins, death or mortality.
Plus I haven’t figured out what to write in that diary for my cousin. The thing that perfectly sums up my feelings that she should be a free thinker and that while I don’t believe in the faith she is entering, I still want to be there for her as a person.
This post has no real meaning. I’m just freaking out. And it’s publication day. Should I be posting this at all? Is this maybe better kept in a private journal like I’m about to give my cousin? Maybe. Am I asking the world for help? Maybe. I don’t have any answers right now. And this, as well as picking up my man’s favourite meal for his dinner tonight makes me feel like I’ve at least done SOMETHING.
god fucking damn it