February 29

Leap years are stupid. They’re in the same category as time changes. Yeah, I know it’s science and based on our trips around the sun, but it still doesn’t make it any less dumb. Whether we count our days in revolutions in the atmosphere, in cups of coffee, or in inches or miles, we’re still counting all of the days. And because of the leap year, I’ve got an extra day without my brother.

We spent a whole week preparing to bury my brother and then a whole week after that preparing ourselves to go back out into the world. I thought it would be enough time, but it’s not. I’m not sure if there will ever be enough time to get over it or move on or whatever it is we’re supposed to be doing.

Life is different now. I don’t feel like smiling, and if I do, I feel bad doing it. I know it’s ridiculous, the internet has told me so, but I can’t turn off the guilt. Raymond isn’t walking this earth anymore, yet I am, and I’m not sure how to reconcile those two facts. If anyone has any bright ideas, pass them along to me, but please no more “With time, the pain will fade” platitude. Because at this point, the pain is the only thing keeping me sane. I’m afraid if I gave in to the sorrow, it would swallow me whole, so for now, I’m surviving on my rage. Not even the Rent soundtrack can move me.

#Grief #Renthead #FiveHundredTwentyFiveThousandSixHundredMinutes #Rage