Really, is there anything worse than having to go to a party when you feel utterly, fully, and plainly defeated? Well, yes. Scabies, for example. But within the microcosm of social obligation, not really. I had some good conversations tonight, but the surrounding giddy festivity only accentuated how alone I feel lately. So I quietly sipped my Welch's and waited for my ride home.
The collective "they" are right in saying that the holidays are hell for the bereaved. Months ago, when my father's death was fresh, people asked how I was doing. "I think things will be harder in a few months, when it all settles in and feels real," I'd say. Well, guess who's a regular Miss Cleo. I wish I'd been wrong like you wouldn't believe.
The collective "they" are right in saying that the holidays are hell for the bereaved. Months ago, when my father's death was fresh, people asked how I was doing. "I think things will be harder in a few months, when it all settles in and feels real," I'd say. Well, guess who's a regular Miss Cleo. I wish I'd been wrong like you wouldn't believe.
My dad recently died too, and I'm just wishing every day lately that I could just skip over the next few days and go right back to normal days. It's too much, especially since Xmas was so much his thing.
I'm sorry, Matthew. I know exactly what you mean. 2010 cannot come quickly enough. I'll be thinking of you on Christmas.