24/10/09 5:00a.m

I'm okay.
(Note: read "I'm okay" as "I'm as okay as I can be" and let's be honest, that's not okay at all. I barley holding myself together. I can hear his voice in my head, as kind and sweet as ever. I miss him already, this was too quick. I can see the pain in my family's eyes. My gramma, my father, my sister, I'm sure my uncle, aunt and cousins too all trying to be strong and seem like they're holding themselves together. It's an act. I know because I'm putting on the same mask, playing the same part. But please let me do this, I need to. I can't break down. So when I tell you that I'm okay, please just pretend to believe me. If I can keep myself distracted for long enough, stop feeling the pain for long enough, forget for long enough, maybe it will all go away and I can move on. Until then indulge me a little, give me a distraction. Let me build my little hibernation nest, warm and protected in his arms, happy and cheery at work, mindless and comatose on the couch watching the screen flicker. I'll be better eventually, I promise.)



Poppa I love you, and always will. I'm happy that you're not in pain now and that you're free. I miss you though and just wish that I could give you a hug. I know you're watching over us and I promise that I'll make you proud. R.I.P 

Falling apart...

Only hours left.
"I have no regrets and nothing I would change. Well I have regrets, but I wouldn't change anything."
I love you and always will.

Where the fuck is the off switch?

I want to rip my hair out, curl up in a corner and cry.
Then get sucked into a black whole. And die.
Where the fuck did all this stress come from?
And why did he have to choose tonight to be an ass?
So what am I doing instead of
planning for my history discussion?
reading Hard times and making notes?
finding problems with the hellenistic philosophies?
working on my content analysis?
writing one of my history essay?
sleeping?

I am switching between doing my work, crying, procrastinating, imagining the worse, worrying and more crying.
I wish I could turn my brain off, just for a little bit. Go on autopilot and just coast.
Until all this shit is over with and I'm at university siting comfortably in my humanities class making plans to go out and get drunk.

"Just imagine me holding your hand"

I have concrete in my stomach,
ice in my veins,
but many incredible people there to hold my hand.
"we are strong together"

I can be strong, paint on a brave face. I can do this.
Well, we'll see

*                  *                  *                  *                  *                  *                  *                  *                  *
I have been called strong but I can't compare to him.
He is the strongest, bravest man I know.
He's facing death and yet he is still himself.
He talks about funerals and cremation, even his own.
He makes jokes.
He looks frail, needs help getting up and walking
but he was the strongest one here.

"they're not going to do the chemo...."





"there's no treatment plan..."




"It's going to be months, not years..."



"it's just about making him comfortable now..."



Silence. I can't comprehend.
I can't imagine him not being around, I don't want to.