The first week is the hardest I think. I have started a ritual as of last night... as in Sunday. I now cry around 11 o'clock or 11:30 for about twenty minutes and then write my grandmother a letter. I write to her about my grandpa and how I am doing or other nonesense. The nights are the worst. During the day I feel the nag that I am going to have a hard night and that if I try anything it is wrong. I kinda look forward to the release at night when I can cry.
My mother kept me really busy when I was home and when I wasn't, I played with the fire or went on the computer to relax. I never really relaxed enough to let loose the bottle. I think Saturday I could have but the movies I watched were... weird. Watchmen was a little achem ... R rated. I thought it was PG-13 so I didn't expect it is all... They exploded people for cryin out loud... and there was this scene with dogs and a little girl that was a bit too mcuh for me alone.
I guess I'm handling it pretty well for someone in my shoes. I spent so much time with them that I can hear his voice. The way he would say our names or even the little things like the noise he would make when I hugged him. He was the first death I have really experienced in my life and I miss him. I miss him dearly. It's worse than a pet because instead of guilt for how I treated the pet or how it went over during the last days, I just feel sad. I think of all the good times we had. All the memories. I don't ever really think about why it was him or how he's never going to be here again. I do think about how his hugs were and how intensly I miss him.
The first week I suppose is the hardest. But things will get better. They have to... I just know it
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Fragmented Self who wanders through life like a dreamer and wades through the river of dreams as though it were the only truth left in this world
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