Why

Why do people have to leave without a trace, especially people who made it a point for you to mean something to them, and they to you?

Is it so hard to say, "I'm going to be gone for a little while, but I'll be back."

No...they can't do that. They disappear, not caring the damage they are doing to others.

Men are especially good at this. Is it in some handbook you guys all get? How to completely fuck with people's heads?

But then I suppose when she's no longer flirting with you, she served her purpose and she's no longer useful...friendship was never what it was, but you sure did a good job of faking it. Your arrogance and ignorance about who and what you are is astounding.

Limited time

Sometimes the reality of it just punches me right in the gut. In the face. Both. It leaves bruises and wounds and a battered heart. I don't want her to die. I want her to live. I don't want her family to be bereaved. I don't want to see her mama's heart break. I can't take it. I hate that I can't be there.

I've been feeling sorry for myself over various things, while my very best friend is in danger of seriously losing her shit, because she is facing losing her child, AND her father.

I know what it's like to need to fall to pieces because everyone needs you and you can't. How many times have I left the room so Aaron wouldn't see me cry?

She cannot change what is happening to her daughter but she needs to be allowed to fall apart. I wish that I could be there and give her a day or two of freedom to do that.

disposable

unimportant, insignificant

i let you draw me in
flesh me out
open heart, open door
time spent
or
time wasted
maybe i just
don't
know

but to feel discarded
like a scrap
thrown out
forgotten
cast aside

i knew
people did that

i didn't know
you did.

Friends, attachment, and reality.

Recently I received what I perceived to be a fairly significant cold shoulder from someone I considered a friend. It was someone in whom I had a romantic interest to begin with, but it became clear that was not going to work out. And I thought we'd settled into a good, deepening friendship.

And then he sort of disappeared. Not completely, but there was a measurable decline in communication from him, and no reason for it. I was told there was some physical ailment, but nothing serious. So I kind of let it go, even though my feelings were a bit hurt. I didn't want to be clingy or needy.

Even so, I'd invested time, emotion, and myself into this friendship, and I felt I wasn't treated well (and I had done nothing to deserve this, as far as I could tell). So after a fairly abruptly worded request from me, I was given an explanation that he had been feeling low and missing local friends and needed to figure some things out "IRL."

And I thought...I ~am~ "IRL." Though we don't live geographically close and therefore don't spend (much) time in each other's physical presence, it's not like we haven't met. We have. We've spent hours chatting via text, video chats, etc. Over a period of months. He was a real person in my life, and had come to mean something to me - to be one of the people I consider a friend (and I do not use the term lightly, ever - I am careful to use the word "acquaintance" when I mean it). And I thought I was to him.

But I think I have been assigned to this realm of "not quite real" that diminishes my place in his world. I myself make no distinction between friends I see in person often, and friends I communicate with online or on the phone often. And so yes, this whole thing hurts.

I responded to his explanation with my honest feelings, and I offered words of support, but I think I maybe held back too much, not wanting it to be a big thing. And now I don't know quite what to say or do except to let it all go, and focus on people who really do want me to be part of their lives.

You're not different

It really does suck, and I try to be cool and say "no it doesn't" but yeah...it sucks.

I thought we were, at least, friends. Yes, we did more than friends do for awhile, but on a deeper level, I thought we'd become friends.

And then you acted like I barely existed. I didn't count. And I know I did nothing to cause that. What I suspect is that you found yourself a girlfriend (or something like it) and you, or she, or you and she, decided you couldn't be friends with me anymore.

But did you have the balls to tell me, after the incredibly personal things I told you? Of course not. Even though you knew all about MY dating life - you refused to share that part of yourself with me.

You draw women in, you let them care, and the minute it stops being convenient, you're out. Cowardice.

You made me feel like I don't matter - at all, in any capacity - after you made me feel certain I did. That's a really shitty way to treat someone.

I won't be a Girls Like Me anymore...I'm just worth more than that.

Tonight

I'm thinking about cancer and seizures and the cost of medical care and missing my sisters terribly and wishing for different outcomes for all of those things.

Casual

I haven't had much of a sex drive lately (which is probably good, as I've no willing partner). But it has got me thinking: maybe I am done with it not meaning anything. Maybe I'm done with it being just fun, and nothing more. Because the last few times, I realized I did want it to mean more. And it stung when it didn't.

And now...I haven't been craving it like I did. So maybe...I stay celibate for awhile, until and unless I find a man who's worth it.

So many just aren't.

Salty.

I feel like I could cry a million tears, and there is no one to see them, or feel them.

And it makes me want to cry a million more.

These children...they break our hearts.

I need her.

I don't know which is worse: the heart-rending, gut-wrenching sobs that were so deep and profound she couldn't talk, or the peaceful resignation in her voice when she said, "She asked the doctor if she'd make it to 20."

Once again, I find that I am beside myself with grief. There is nothing else to try; this sweet girl is dying. And this sweet girl - a firecracker like her mom, really - well, her mom is losing a daughter. My best friend in the entire world. The woman who made me believe in real friendship will have to wear that horrible, awful title: bereaved parent. Not today and probably not tomorrow, but soonish. The one glimmer of hope they had is now gone. That was it. And it's not going to happen, because it won't help.

How in the world could this have happened to her, to this family, this generous, fun, incredible, never harmed a soul family?

I am in pieces. Between my own son's horrible health this week, and her daughter's imminent death, I just want to give up.

I want to call my Grandma and I can't. I need her. I need her so much and she's already gone. There is no one for me take this to, not anyone who understands the way that she would, having buried two children of her own.

So I will sit and have a glass of wine and a good cry, and then try to go and be a mom.

Neuroinsanity

Sometimes I wish I could kiss the top of his head, like I do a lot with all of the boys, and his brain would magically work like it’s supposed to. Not misfire neurons and send his body into uncontrollable tremors. Not break at the moment he needs to use his right hand, or walk down the hall. Not be completely contrary to all the Things He Wants to Do. He’s only 14, you know? Almost 15! He should be driving soon, and he won’t ever. He should be dreaming of all the adventures he could take, and instead he’s worried about how they’ll get the leads unglued from his hair next week.

I know we all want normal for our kids. Maybe better than normal. But when your kid has been sick for 2/3 of his life, you crave it in a way you never knew was possible.

I just love him so much. I worry so much that one day it will be too much for him. That he won’t believe it’s worth it to keep going. So many people with epilepsy do. The first time I read about how much higher mortality epilepsy patients have, it broke my heart. So I try not to think about it, because my heart breaks enough already.

It’s just a rough patch, I know. They pass. They always do. But I still fear that there will come a day they won’t. That he won’t wake up. That I will lose him.

And it fucking wrecks me.