There has been a lot going on in my life, and in Alex‘s, since last I wrote. Some of the reason that I haven’t written is because a fair bit of the things that have happened haven’t been the most pleasant of subjects.
I’m not sure where, exactly, to start.
My heart’s been in pieces, it feels, ever since I came back. Naturally I miss Alex, but aside from that there’s been the issues with my mom. Her mental state is perplexing, to put it mildly. She is agitated, unhappy all the time. She can’t remember anything. There are physical issues, as well. No balance or coordination. It’s all just so confusing, and no doctor seems able to find a reason for it.
And then there’s the other thing. The one I don’t want to talk about so much, but that comes to mind every. single. day. The one that hurts at least as much as being separated from Alex again.
When something tragic happens to you, the people who love you usually rally around you, and try to comfort you, try to find the right things to say or do to help you through it, make you feel better. It’s just that sometimes there is nothing that will make you feel better, except perhaps, time.
And then of course there’s also the well-meaning things that people say that are meant to be helpful and comforting, but which only hurt more and make you sadder, or even angry. There have been more than a few well-meaning things said to me that only served to hurt and anger me in the past months.
I need time. I guess.