four seasons

what's the line, four seasons of love and laughter; i'll be alright be being alone...i will be okay.


doesn't feel like it. i forget that sometimes depression isn't just a mental thing, it's a physical thing. i'm exhausted like i've never been before, my whole body aches when i wake up sometimes. i'm ignoring headaches because why waste a perfectly good tylenol. i know it'll be back anyway or the throbbing may abate but the dullness will remain. and yes of course, as aggravated i am about work i'm not really doing all i was doing in the past, despite being forced to do more hours. commitment is just below gone. i know i keep saying it but changes need to be made. maybe i should just do it.

timmay said tay wants the house cleaned so we can have a birthday party for mama, just like we've been meaning too for the past 2 years. i'm not sure if that means we're not moving. tim says it's too early too move and i can't even fathom not being here with flashes of my mother super-imposed over the blank spaces. i hear her laughing or watching hgtv or her shuffling feet in the kitchen while she looked for the equal for her coffee. frak it all, my father makes me an over easy egg for breakfast. i eat it at home because who's gonna make my lunch. i'm not sure, i'll always need lunch but she made it for me.

and the very real blow to my face, the cause of the blooming sting at the tip of my nose that starts the tears is all because i can't accept the gravity of my grief and how the whole world just seems a little less sharp because she's not here anymore. i opened the door this morning as joaquin was leaving and realized it's cold again. she used to wear that reddish jacket tita zeny bought me - i wore skiing twice - when it got cold because it was mad warm in that jacket and she was always cold.

she isn't cold now. only the rest of us.