There are times when it hits me and I start sobbing uncontrollably for a minute or so before I slap myself and say, "Dude, you're driving. Get a grip!" I have started keeping a box of tissues in my car for this very purpose.
And I think I've lost my...caring for things. If I ask a friend to hang out with me and s/he says no, I'm busy, then I really could care less. I go and do something else. It's not loneliness. It's almost like the loneliness is my comfort as much as the company is.
I don't feel like talking. Silence took my voice. And it's not like the previous 'no talking' bouts I've had. This time I /really/ don't feel like it. So I don't.
I suppose people think I've fallen into a dislike of them. This isn't true.
I just....
I need some time. That's all.
And at the same time I feel like that time that I need will never ever be enough. That no matter what I do, this pain will not ease. This grief will not dissipate.
When I went to go see her, I kept on expecting her to wake up. I expected her eyes to open and see me, and I expected her to smile. I thought my wonderful wolffy dog would return to me.
And even now, I find myself thinking that I should have tried to reach her. That I should have tried to bring her back.
This is how I know that I walk the borders of the Twisted Kingdom. Gray shapes make up my world. I don't know where reality begins or ends.
There is a big, gaping hole in my heart. I can feel her not being there as sharply as I felt her presence when she was alive.
The night before I left Guatemala there was a documentary on a wolf pack on tv, dubbed in Spanish. I couldn't watch it.
