I am infinitely prepared to deal with the heavy lifting of grief. They trained me to be able to. I learned how to explore how I felt and why. I learned how to change the self-defeating belief systems. I learned how to slow down and stop reacting to my life. I learned how to accept and embrace all parts of me and of my life. I know how to do this and I have been.

Yesterday was a bad day. It started out really well, a song to sing along with, and friendly chatter with my various friends on gaim. Then I remembered and missed and started to finally realize what exactly dead means. Please don't mourn forever, she's not coming back.

I guess I've been doing my heavy lifting and trying to keep from thinking about what it all really meant, to me. Looking at the big painting and ignoring the stripe of purple, the dab of black, the line of maroon that made up the whole. Getting upset about the missing logs, and ignoring the missing man. Because I've known from the moment I locked down on myself 2 weeks ago that missing Matt would be my undoing.

Realizing that I'm never going to have any more than the tiny bit I have. That I'm never going to create more memories. Just missing this precious person in my life. How do you write out what this feels like? How do I?

I try because to be alone in this is so dangerous for me. I can't hurt this bad alone. Isolation means I start thinking about suicide. So I keep talking and talking and talking because I am never going back to that place inside me. Never. I should tell Ed that, hah.

I'm never going to get my head-squishing hug. I am never going to get to sit across from him and actually ask the hard questions about his life and answer his hard questions about mine. I am never going to get to mail my stupid letters, even though I was patient when he asked me to be. I am never going to get to see him row. I am never going to get to be one of his best friends. He's never going to be one of mine. I am never going to be able to tell him how much I wanted to sit in the waiting room for his surgery, because that's what I do for the people I love. I am never going to be able to say any of the stupid little things I said to him, ever again. I'm never going to read any of his stupid little things he had for me, ever again. I'm never going to get to prove to Matt that having someone that sees all of you and loves you for it and in spite of it isn't scary.

I think I need to go on a mad "I love you" spree again. Because this hurts so fucking bad, but I have people around me that I adore so fucking much and I love so much and I can either disappear into the pain and die too, or I can reach for the love and the joy and the friendships I have and fuck the pit.

I'm coming round to open the blinds
You can't hide here any longer
My god you need to rinse those puffy eyes
You can't lie still any longer
And yes they'll ask you where you've been
And you'll have to tell them, again and again

And you probably don't want to hear tomorrow's another day
But I promise you you'll see the sun again
And you're asking me why pain's the only way to happiness
And I promise you you'll see the sun again
And I promise you you'll see the sun again

See the Sun, Dido