Holy crap, how did it get to be three am and why am I eating nachos?

 

This has been an emotionally draining weekend and it has left me feeling very vulnerable.

 

Friday night I told my story to a 12 step meeting. I've done it before in front of complete strangers. This time it was in front of people I knew. It would have been easier just to take off all my clothes and sing

. It went OK. No one showed with torches & pitchforks and not a word was said about exorcism.

 

Then there was this very ambitious story I wrote for the upcoming anthology. I got it in just under the wire.

 

I didn't know if I had the chops to do it justice. I still don't but I gave it everything I had. Everybody that has seen it so far has been pretty complimentary of it. I won't know until it goes live.

 

The ink in the story is smeared by my tears. It was that emotional to write. I revisited some old friends that have been gone along time and remembered just how much I loved them.

 

Fuck.

 

People wonder why I don't sleep. You don't have too. I'm trying to live up to my survivors guilt.

 

There wasn't a war. Twenty year olds shouldn't have to worry about getting a horrible disease, giving to the people they love and dying.

 

We did. I miss too many people. There is too much silence that used to be filled with their laughter.

 

Yes. I've seen a therapist about it but some scars cut too deep.

 

This pain we don't talk about much. It stays inside but it's always there.

 

We cant help but wonder why we're here and they are gone.