just one look
I’m sick of being sad. Ya know. I really am. Even though I’m not sad all the time, I’m tired of it. It’s like the other day I was standing at a party talking with a friend about running. And I thought, wow, this is a pleasurable, standing here talking like this. I can’t believe how much I’m enjoying talking about running shoes and body form and training regimens. It was almost a luxury. A small one. A secret one. But sweet to be following every word he was saying and saying things in response that made sense. And maybe he asked me about what I’d been up to or how my year was going and I said something about how amazing it was to be standing there enjoying this conversation and not be conscious of the fact my dad had died in a house fire this past winter.
Things kinda quietly fell apart from there. He went inside to find his girlfriend or something. I can be sad or notice I’m bot being sad and either way if I say something people stare at their feet and go away. No pity. I mean I’m not looking for pity when I say that. I just want more people to look back. Ya know.
here’s looking at you, kid. depression takes it out of you, it drains. i’m really looking forward to seeing you in the fall.
I hear ya. I’m looking… sorry that sometimes my gaze gets distracted by my own grief… but i’m still lookin’
thanks for looking and posting. sometimes i think my blog suggests a more intense level of sadness or something. i tend to use my blog as a jumping off place to both write and to expand on observations and feelings that i might not otherwise document. but i would guess you both know the social awkwardness of grief. it kinda accompanies you every where for a while, even when it’s hushed up. if that makes sense. and i always figure you two know what i’m talking about when it comes to this kinda stuff.
ned i’m way psyched about the wedding.
heather, i’m sure i’ll see you sometime soon.