2007-08-10 09:24
. After morning coffee and a healthy dose of webcomics, I’m feeling much better. I saw Col. Bean (totally not making that name up), and it seems like there’s finally going to be stuff done about my legs. Also, he’s just a stand-up guy. We talked for a bit about life in general, and I have to say that I feel a lot better.
. Writing here also helps a lot. It’s nice to have a vent for stuff, and seeing page views climb is always encouraging. My new blackberry finally came in, and that helps a lot, when I can’t sleep but am too tired to go downstairs and grab my laptop. I just have to pick this little guy up and type. Or look at pictures, browse rss feeds, etc.
. It’s been raining a lot here the last few days. It’s good, because we’ve really needed the moisture; also frustrating because I want to wash my car from the drive back here. Bah.
. I’ve got a few more things to take care of today, but I don’t work; please, if anyone gets bored, call me.
out.
2007-08-10 07:38
. At the doctor’s to get my legs checked out again. I wish I would’ve gotten up earlier so I could have some coffee. Blah, evil mornings.
. I really hate the part where you wake up and everything slowly dawns on you. Then you realise what’s going on and are immediately sad. I prefer the part where I’ve just woken up, but the dreams are still real. You never fully realize what some things mean to you until they’re gone.
out.
2007-08-09 22:04
. Laying in bed flipping through pictures of our kids. Happy, playing, sleeping, eating. A thousand lonely miles away. Not my choice.
. It hurts when you say you’ll call; but you never do. It hurts that you say you love me; nothing you do shows it (and actions speak louder than words). It hurts that I want to work stuff out; you don’t know if you /feel/ like it. It hurts that you say you want what’s best for the kids; you’re destroying their chance at having a good family life. It hurts that I’ve made a point to never speak negatively about you to other people (yes, even now), and you’re destroying me in conversation to anyone who’ll listen. Most of all, it hurts because I really do love you; you’re killing me.
. I didn’t know a soul could unravel; shredded apart and abandoned to wither alone.
out.
2007-08-09 05:29
. Just got a call saying everyone had to be at the company by 0700. Of course, it’s my day off. Ha.
. Luckily, I wasn’t sleeping anyway. I keep having these dreams that start off badly and then get better. They correlate to the current situation, and the part where they get better is basically impossible. That’s all I’m going to say on here, except for “holy crap, my subconcious wants me to be miserable when I wake up and reality dawns again.”
. My old team leader leaves mid-september for Okinawa. My current team leader (awesome, by the way) leaves mid-october. EVERYONE’s leaving me. Bah.
. It hurts to grow up.
out.
2007-08-08 13:56
It’s 102 today, but I still feel cold inside. All I want to do right now is go home and curl up next to someone who’s not there.
I haven’t felt this hurt and alone in years.. It’s comparable to when mum originally had her stroke and the doctors thought she was going to die.. I was thirteen then. I never thought I’d feel something close to that again..
out.
. Feeling really hurt and alone right now.. I wish I had someone here to talk to.
2007-08-05 16:56:26
. Well, I’m sitting on the porch again after work. I think it’s going to rain, which is kinda cool. We could use the moisture and it rather fits my mood right now.
. A red impala just drove by with an ICP hatchetman decal across the back window. What is wrong with some people?
. Amy wrote me last night, but I haven’t been able to reply yet.
. Work today wasn’t so bad, atleast for a first-real-day-of-work-in-almost-a-month day. Not a whole lot was going on, but then.. It is Sunday after all.
2007-08-04 12:19:19
. From the last few weeks: Devestated, crushed, broken. Love, hope, peace.
. Made it back safely from Missouri. Frederick hasn’t really changed in my absence; neither has the house. I still won’t be able to call it home. How can a building so full of stuff feel so empty? I keep thinking I’m hearing little sounds.. well, sounds that I should normally hear.
. It’s so hard to try to give her space when I want to talk to her so bad. Trying to bite through the pain to make sure that she knows I love her, and want her back. I always will. It just kills me that while realising that stuff needs to change, the little voice is still there to say “It’s too late.. you’ve failed.” There’s so much that I don’t understand. Amy, if you every read this, I love you. I always will, and I’ll always be waiting for a call, a knock on the door, key in the lock, a touch. When we stood in front of all those people and I made a vow between you, me, and God that forsaking all else, forever, until death.. I’d always love you, and be with you no matter what. I meant it. I love you.
. It’s always the littlest stuff that makes you break down and cry. Seeing your baby girl’s tiny hairbrush on the kitchen counter while you’re pouring coffee. Dirty laundry left by the washing machine. The hundreds of tiny items that mark peoples’ former presence..
out.