"In the interest of fighting the childhood obesity epidemic...I've decided to eat all of the Halloween candy I bought."

Can you believe tomorrow is Halloween? And the next day is November?  Where did the time go?  It seems to be flying by...

I finally finished the hallway:

I didn't even care if it looked good.  At some point, I get so damn tired of how many coats of paint it takes and how long it takes me to complete something, that I just don't care anymore.  It actually turned out just fine, though if I had the time, energy and patience, I would do one more coat...for a total of 4.  Four freaking coats.  Geez.

Chris' 50th birthday is coming up (November 10) so I'm working on a new DIY project.  

I'm going to attempt to transfer that picture to the wood.  You smear a coat of acrylic gel medium on the regular-paper picture, turn it over onto the wood, smooth it out and leave it for 24 hours.  Tomorrow night, I'm going to take a damp washcloth to it and take the "paper" off.  Honestly, I don't understand for a second how this is going to work and I've probably missed some really important step, but we'll see.  No harm, no foul if it doesn't transfer.  I'll figure something else out.

BUT....if it does work, just imagine the possibilities!  I wouldn't have to have hand cramps for the next week tracing, transferring and painting all those damn letters onto the wood.  I would just "mirror image" each of them, slap that acrylic shit on them, smooth them out, leave them and they'd transfer.  Damn.  I really hope this works because that would be awesome!  Awesome.

I was going to put together a surprise family get-together for this weekend (his & mine), but his mother has never called me back and in the meantime, she's made plans for us to get together the Friday after his birthday.  Not sure how to take that, but I'll go along to get along.  I'm still going to surprise him by celebrating with him this weekend with Mom & Dad (& Ben?) if they'll come and give him at least one of my presents - I got him a new pillow (like mine but much, much cheaper) and an Iowa Hawkeye (He's a Husker fan, lol) long-sleeved T.  I'm going to make dinner, bake a cake and show him I'm still happy he was born.

Other than that, this past week wasn't too exciting.  I met my new therapist (I like her) and had my first session with her.  I won't see her again until the 17th which seems like years away, but it's only a couple of weeks.

I'm looking forward to the next few weeks, the Fall season, the upcoming holidays.  The next two months are the best time of the year.  I plan on enjoying every goddamn minute of it.

"Facebook should have a limit on how many times you can change your relationship status. After 3 it should default to "unstable"."

I don't know how it's been almost two full weeks since I've written.  There aren't enough hours in the day...or there are, but I just don't have the energy or stamina....to get everything done that I want to get done.  So when I woke up at 3:30 this morning and I mean wide awake woke up, I thought, "I can write!"

So, what have I been up to?

I've been painting my hallway - the hallway that I had to take a hammer to in order to get the couch down the stairs and into its proper place in the living room.

It was green, remember?

This is two coats. It needs about two more and then I'll be done....so I can paint the ceiling next.  I suspect that'll be later.  Much, much later.  Why can't painting be one and done?  It definitely brightens the hallway tremendously.  I can't believe that light green color sucked up so much damn light! 

Anyway, that has been my evenings, along with spending time with Chris when he "visits".  

*sigh*

I woke up yesterday, alone, and felt like I wasn't in a relationship.  I felt single.  I don't really want to feel single.  It kind of sucks. I know I'm not single.  I'm "in a relationship" as Facebook would put it.  But I hate that statement, too.  I hate the word "girlfriend" or "boyfriend".  It sounds so lame, so high school.  At some point in one's life, such as at the age of 41, there should be a better word for it.  Something that says, "It took me this long to find someone who doesn't irritate the shit out of me just by breathing".  Is there a word for that?

The time we have spent together the past few weeks has been good.  I'm sad when he leaves.  I don't breathe a sigh of relief that he's gone and I get my house back.  That takes a couple of days to "enjoy" being by myself again.  I'm in a weird place, so.....

I'm going to see a new counselor on Thursday.  I scheduled it for myself two weeks ago because if I'm going to be "in a relationship", I need someone objective to help me understand it, tell me I'm on the right track or not, help me through it.  We'll see.  It's always difficult finding a good counselor - someone I feel comfortable with and who I can connect with.  Difficult is too mundane of a word.

We did carve pumpkins, which I posted on Facebook - for the first time mentioning this man in my life to the Facebook world.  Most people didn't realize it, which I found fitting.  

Mine's the cat...of course.

I also interviewed for a new job this past week.  It was for an accounting/bookkeeping job in the same town.  I would want to work there because of their Code of Ethics relating to their employees, specifically.  I miss being respected, lol.  And appreciated.  I don't want to leave my job.  I hate starting new somewhere else, not knowing if I'm going to fit in or even be able to do the job.  I'm comfortable at my current job, but I'm never going to make enough money to live on if I stay.  Never.  They're never going to pay me what I feel I'm worth.  Is anybody?  Sure.  I'm cheap, honestly.

The interview went....okay.  I describe it as "I was charming, witty and stupid all at once".  Yes, stupid.  I realized I don't have any formal accounting background.  I don't have any education in accounting.  Everything I know I taught myself (and that's dangerous, right?).  So yeah, stupid...but I can learn.  I'm not so stupid I can't learn.  I'm not holding my breath.  The same day I interviewed for that job, I got rejected by two others that I wanted.  That doesn't seem to bode well.  

I also spent last Saturday morning with my friend, Theresa.  

I need more of this.  I should spend every Saturday morning in CB catching up with a friend each time. I mean, I'm not much of a social person, let's be honest, and even when I lived in CB, did I "hang out" with friends on a regular basis? Nope....not unless I was at a bar.  But I think it's important for me...to get out of myself.  I wish I could go to one of my regular AA meetings every week.  I miss doing that.  I need to kick myself in the ass and go to a meeting in the town I'm in every damn day.  Is there time? To not run my errands and go to a 1-hour meeting instead?  I don't know.  I just don't know, but that's no damn excuse.  An alcoholic needs those meetings.  I need to make that shit happen.

I attempt to wake up early a couple of times a week to get a workout in because there are other things I need to do after work....like sleep.  I accomplished a workout yesterday morning.  I still weigh the same (about 117lbs) even though I've been eating crap and not working out as much.  I eat "right" just enough to maintain and I workout just enough to stay toned.  I will go one way or the other - either I'll dwindle my workouts to nil and keep eating crap or I'll swing the other way and get back on the low carb train and workout even harder.  Here's hoping its the latter!  

It's only 5:20a.m.  I should paint the hallway....

  

"We go together like fuck and you."

*sigh*

I don't really want to blog about this, but I suppose I owe you that, don't I?  To find out how the story ends...or at least continues.

I hurt.  Man, did I ever hurt.  I cried so damn much.  I did get up and get ready for work last Wednesday....and then he texted me just before I walked out the door and asked if we were never going to speak again.  It took all my willpower not to text him back.  I knew that no response was the best response.  I was so damn vulnerable.  I wasn't strong. I was weak. I made it to the office, but I read one email, started sobbing and didn't stop.  I figured it would reflect poorly on my employer (not that I cared or needed that reason to leave), so I left.  I cried all damn morning.  I finally ate something later in the day (hadn't eaten since cottage cheese & yogurt for lunch on Monday) and fell asleep, but not before thinking, "This may sink me into the worst depression I've ever had or it might just outright kill me".

And then something amazing happened.

I woke up wanting to work out.  And I did.  And it felt good.  And I thought, "I'm going to make it".  I punched that fucking bag like it was his head.

The next day, I felt strong again.  I texted him he could pick up his weights & other stuff Saturday at a set time.  He tried to text more, but I just responded "Saturday"....like I was tough or something.  Honestly, I was just hanging on for dear life and knew I wouldn't be able to resist him and his sweet words if I got sucked into a text exchange.  And I deserved more than a bunch of words via text.  I deserved a fucking explanation and a text wasn't going to satisfy me.

I had to contain my excitement that I would see him Saturday.  I had to keep reminding myself I wasn't seeing him for a good reason.  I had to keep reminding myself that we weren't together anymore.  I had to keep reminding myself that I wasn't going to spend the rest of my life with this man who I truly thought I would marry.

Damn, did I ever fail at that.

He texted me again Friday to see if we would be able to talk Saturday.  Actually he wanted to know if he had a chance in hell because if he didn't, he was going to bring someone to help him.  We did text back and forth then, but we left it that he was still coming to get his stuff (through the garage) and I said, "Well, at least you didn't make me any false promises, lol".

I spent Friday night moving that goddamn couch (with Ben, Dad & Sweetchuck - yes 4 of us) from upstairs to down.  A bigger hole was punched into the hallway wall (with a little assistance from yours truly and a hammer - Sweetchuck said, "Just imagine it's his head." and lol, that worked!).  I never hated him more than in that moment, when my dad looked like he was going to drop dead of a heart attack, Ben's removing clothes because he's sweating so much, Sweetchuck's making fun of all of us and I'm straining, but too weak to really do anything.  Hated him.  Hated him.  Hated him.  Because I felt embarrassed, ashamed, stupid.

How had I fallen for it?  How had I fallen for some loving words, a sexy body, and a fucked up mind?  ME?

Damn, but I loved him.

He showed up Saturday (alone) and immediately went down to the basement.  I was going to force a conversation in order to get some closure.  What a farce.  Closure.  *eye roll*  But really, he might have known that life was changing, but I sure as hell didn't.  I didn't know that was going to be the last time I hugged him, the last time I kissed him, the last time I made love to him, the last time I laughed with him, the last time I talked to him.  I. Didn't. Know. And that pissed me off.

We talked. He explained. He apologized. He wept. I left him to finish up and came upstairs to smoke, do laundry and think.  Could I be with him again?  Like this?

I could.  Being without him was unbearable.  Seeing him again, talking to him again, I instantly felt grounded. Centered. Zenned.

I couldn't be so damn wrong.  I'm an intuitive and discerning individual.  I can read people pretty good most of the time.  He couldn't fool me that deeply for that long.  It's not possible.  I cannot be wrong.

She he came back Saturday night and we spent the night and Sunday morning talking.  A lot.  It was the first time I had felt heard since he moved in.  Really heard.

I'm not over any of this by any means.  I still feel scared, untrusting, wary, hurt - profoundly hurt- but I'm willing to give it one more shot.

I'm not beating him up about it.  I calmly and clearly let him know that it's going to take a lot of work to repair.  Nothing he did prior to this means a damn thing- that's how quickly trust is broken.  You can work for 3 months to gain it and then it disappears in 5 minutes.  That's life.  He feels bad.  He should. Of course he should.  But I'm not going to make him feel that way - I'm going to sit back, watch, observe, listen, and see what changes are made.  I love him.  I tell him so daily, multiple times (as he also says to me).  This is what love is - Forgiving, learning, growing, changing.  If my parents had given up on me the multiple times they certainly could have, where would I be?  On the street. Homeless. Drunk in a gutter.  Dead.  So, yeah, love isn't giving up. Love is work. Hard work.

But you can be damn sure my shields are up.  I'm wearing my armor. My loins are girded and all that shit.

Who am I kidding?  I loved him then.  I love him still.

"You forget: I have an addictive personality. I'm addicted to you. Somehow I think you could do all sorts of bad things to me, and I'd still come back to you."

"that feeling you get in your stomach when your heart's broken...it's like all the butterflies just died."

I called it, did I not?  I said he was either going to be the greatest thing to ever happen to me....or that he would crush me.

I don't believe in souls, but he has crushed my very being.  My essence has died.  He broke my heart and I let him.

I did pretty good today.  Granted, I didn't make it into work.  My eyes were so puffy when I woke up, I looked like someone had punched me and didn't leave a bruise.  But I didn't cry all day and I took care of stuff around the house and then I left for my friend's mom's funeral in CB.

On the way there, I looked at every single car heading east.  Every one.  And I saw a black Toyota FJ Cruiser with tinted windows.  How many of those are there on the road?  Not many.  I instantly felt sick.  I called Dad and told him no way in hell to let Chris into this house.  He needs to go through me to get the rest of his shit.

Why? Why? Why?

If it was Chris, he did not get into the house.  His weights and shit are still here.  I fretted over nothing.

But, again, why?

Because I love him.  He fucked me up in ways I probably won't be able to fix, but I love him.  Still.  If I were to see him right now, today, tomorrow, a few days from now, I don't trust myself not to run into his arms and beg him to come back.  I want to see him again....and if I did, I know it would be detrimental to my health...and yet....and yet...and yet.

I love him.  Still.

I also hate him immensely, but can you have hate without love?

I keep thinking about all the never's.  He's never going to stand in the bedroom doorway.  He's never going to lean on the kitchen counter.  He's never going to sit next to me on the front porch swing.  He's never going to hug me.  He's never going to kiss me.  He's never going to make love to me again.  He's never going to hold my foot as I fall asleep.  He's never going to hold my hand.  I'm never going to look into his blue eyes again.  I'm never going to rub his back again.  I'm never going to hold his hand, hug him, kiss him, make love to him.

And it hurts. It hurts so fucking bad.

I've cried a lot since getting home.  I can't seem to stop.  The floodgates have opened and I'm hurting.  I know this too shall pass, but damn, it can't pass soon enough.

I had forgotten what a broken heart felt like.  I wish I had never been reminded.  Mom says I'm grieving and that it's ok but I can't comprehend how I can still want him, love him.  I can't comprehend it.  He treated me so poorly and life with him would have been unbearable, but still, I want him, I love him.

This is why I can't see him.  It would do me in.

"How am I supposed to forget you when every time I go outside I see things that remind me of you....like garbage bins and dog shit."

I'm still processing and dealing and cussing and laughing and shaking my head and tearing up (I'll be damned if I'm going to cry anymore) and purging and and and.

This past weekend started out just fine.  And then Saturday morning, I had been on Facebook and saw a post from a very-ex-boyfriend (I dated him at age 15, so, yeah, ex) and said to Chris, "I should show you a pic of Ricky..." and with that one little sentence, I ruined the whole weekend.  Though, I kept saying to him, "You're going to ruin a whole weekend because of one stupid, flippant, doesn't-mean-a-goddamn-thing, comment?"  Yep.  That's what he did.

He left for work early Sunday.  Said he worked a 12 hour day.  I texted him later Sunday night and said, "Do you want to talk when you get home?" because I had done my research....on how to live with a narcissist (everything basically says to run, run fast, run faster, but I was going to try).  So he got home, we talked, I said I didn't want to live my life without him, but that I couldn't go on the way we were.  I asked him if he would consider going to counseling (I even called the therapist's office yesterday to get the ball rolling...stupid me).  He said yes, he would consider it.  And then he made love to me, which still, at this moment, makes me want to gag.  We cuddled up to sleep.  His comment before I dozed off was, "I really wanted this to be wonderful and I wanted it to be with you".  I replied, "It still can be".

Boy was I wrong....or was I right?

I got up Monday morning.  He had asked me to wake him up earlier than usual so he could really "be awake" before I left.  He complained of an upset stomach.  He kissed and hugged me.  Hugged me so tight and for so long, I laughingly made comments like, "Is this the last time we're going to hug?" "Why do I feel like this is the last time we're going to hug?" "You're not packing up and leaving today, are you?" to which he said, "NO".  I was laughing.  I was joking.

He wasn't. He lied. All damn day. He lied.

I even called him early yesterday morning and asked him if he would go to the cable place in town to get a new remote.  He said he would.  I texted him around 10:30 and asked if he had any problems doing that.  No response.  I texted him again before lunch and said, "Everything ok, honey?"  No response.  Until right before I went back to work and his text was, "I'll take care of the remote.  I'm probably taking the day off, lol, pretty sure I am, lol".

I had had a bad feeling all day.  My gut was telling me something.  I was nauseous.  I couldn't eat.  I knew.   Or at least my body knew before my brain did.

He texted me about 4:30 and asked what time I would be home.  I said 5:20-ish, You?  He said he was waiting to talk to me and see me at home.  I texted my friend, Sweetchuck, and said I had a bad feeling.

I was right.

I came down main street and saw my mom in her front yard, waiting for me.  She's never waited for me before.  I pulled over, knowing.  She said, "He moved out" to which, still unbelievingly said, "No he fucking didn't".  At least I had that much notice.  It was something.

I came home, he was sitting on the porch, waiting for me.  I pulled into the garage and met him in the kitchen.  All of his stuff was gone.  Haiku was gone.  Meow-cat was gone.  My house felt like a tomb.

I said, "So I heard...."  He said he didn't want to break up.  He loved me.  He didn't know what to do.  He didn't want to fight anymore.

I told him this was a dick-move and to get the fuck out.

His weights are still here and some other odds and ends.  He thought he'd come back today and get them.  He was wrong.  He'll be allowed to get the rest of his shit when I'm good and ready.  He's lucky I don't set fire to everything of his.  I've already torn up and thrown out every picture, love note, flowers, etc. and in so doing, realized he never bought me one damn thing.  Not a shirt. Not a pair of underwear. Not a piece of jewelry. Nothing.  Isn't that weird?  I think so.  All I had to get rid of were pictures I had printed off, pictures off my phone, pictures off my computer.  I decided to keep his text messages in case I need them in a court of law.

I'm still in disbelief.  I am wounded.  Seriously wounded.  How could I have been so gullible? What kind of idiot am I? How did I let myself get into this mess? How do I stop loving someone, quickly, and go back to being single and alone? To doing life alone? How do I do that? How does a person do that?

Granted, I was only with him for just over 3 months.  Can you imagine if it had been a year? If we had been married? I have so much more sympathy for divorced people.  It's a lot of pain.  A lot.

But in thinking about this all night and all of today, I realized it wasn't him so much I would be missing.  Sure, he had a rock-hard body that I could love all day, but other than that, no. Not him.  I will miss the presence of a man in my life. I will miss being with someone.  I will miss having someone who didn't annoy me (really, he didn't...how odd is that?) to do things with all day long.  It pains me to realize I'm going to have to do all of those things by myself.

I've cleaned house.  I've packed up what I didn't throw away of his so he can pick it up when I'm ready.  I've tried to put the house back to normal (which has been surprisingly easy).  I've got my GoodRiddance playlist ready on my phone so I can rock out and feel good about music again....because it's going to be a long time until I can listen to any of the songs I listened to while we were together.  My workouts are going to suck.

Last night, as I was falling asleep, I thought this:

Of course he left.  I wouldn't put up with his shit.  I didn't grovel at his feet.  I didn't worship the ground he walked on.  I saw him for what he was - a very flawed human being.  He couldn't handle it that his facade fell away in my eyes...that I saw him for what he really was.  

I'll be fine.  I will.  It's going to take a while to adjust to this - to let go of the hurt and pain and to forgive myself.  Forgive myself.  Forgive me.

As flippant as I may seem, though, I am in an incredible amount of pain.  I wish I could inflict it on him.  He isn't worth it.

"If a narcissist decides you're a target, he will seek to enmesh you in a relationship quickly and powerfully."

Holy crapballs. I was trying to pull parts of an article into this post to make it easier for you to understand what the hell my life has become like, but I was basically copying and pasting the entire blasted article into my post because so much of it relates to my relationship with Chris.

Narcissism Understood

This is why the internet is both good and bad.  "Ignorance is bliss" and all that.  If I didn't know Chris was a narcissist, would I be better off?  Maybe.  Maybe I'm attributing narcissistic traits to him that aren't there.  Or maybe I just said that just now to delude myself into thinking I didn't make a ginormous mistake.

I've made myself physically ill reading the above article.  Below are some direct quotes from the article but are by no means the entire load of head-nodding I did and horror I felt upon reading the whole damn thing.  Fuck.


"I made excuses for him.  I kept defaulting back to the image he portrayed when I first met him.  He created the persona of the perfect man for me.  He appeared as everything I thought was my life partner."

"The narcissist is incapable of genuine love and empathy.  His purpose for creating a love relationship is for 2 reasons:  to secure narcissistic supply (attention), and secondly to have an outlet to project his internal pain and torture onto."

"Have you ever been in a relationship with an individual who demands your attention incessantly and becomes depressed, sulky and even full of rage if your attention goes elsewhere?  This is one of the earliest warning signs of a narcissist.  Healthy adults do not behave in such a way."

"Unfortunately, many individuals, as I did, can mistake (or delude ourselves) that this high need for attention means we're loved, missed and adored, or maybe we felt wrong in leaving or speaking up, as a result of our own deficient boundary function.  This is not love; it's the deadly calling card of the narcissist."

"Classic bully:  ...A person who takes their own needs primarily by charm or intimidation.  To the outer world this person may appear incredibly assertive, confident, charismatic, powerful and self-assured.  Nothing could be further from the truth."

"Narcissism is a grave condition of insecurity and desperately feeling unloved and unacceptable."

"When they are getting what they want, the charm is flowing and plentiful."  

"Additionally, the narcissist blames his behavior on something that you are or aren't doing, and a hooked person may try to 'do it better' or 'get it right'."

"We would be sharing a day together, and everything was calm, and then he would tell me (whilst driving home) that there was a man in the corner of a store that I couldn't keep my eyes off. It always worked, I would become incensed, outraged or go into total despair. This would inevitably occur after a few hours of just him and me when he couldn't mine supply from the outside world. Now I know I wasn't going mad - there was no man there, he made the whole thing up in order to trigger me off and gain narcissistic supply!"

"the narcissist's depth of empathy and support is sadly non-existent. If there is no 'pay off' of constant admiration, the support towards you (which was initially over-the-top plentiful) becomes unavailable." 

"If you have a person in your life who is incapable of being supportive, and in fact becomes depressed, angry and even abusive when you have a bad time or require assistance, you may be shocked to realize this individual is narcissistic. Narcissists are the classic 'fair weather people' to individuals they're familiar with. If you have no energy to grant the narcissist, you are of no use, and he finds it deplorable to give of himself to you. In fact when you're 'down' and require support, and the focus of attention is off the narcissist, he may punish you mercilessly for not making it 'all about him'. When receiving such abuse the dehumanisation is soul-shattering."

"It's important to understand the narcissist is not always nasty and can be truly delightful. This makes this condition very confusing. When the narcissist is feeling full of recognition and getting what he wants from life you could not imagine a happier more delightful, funny, loving and charismatic person. This is part of the manic depressive condition caused by narcissism. When the narcissist Is high in life, he is high on 'narcissistic supply', the false currency (energy mined from the outside) that fills the narcissist full of good feelings and 'self-worth.'"

"This 'feed' lifts him out of the depression of a damaged and tortured self. Because this feeling 'full' is in stark contrast to the narcissist's natural state, he feels euphoria and great relief. The narcissist feels power-ful (rather than power-less) and makes the most of these feelings. No different to an alcoholic or drug addict who has hit the apex of the binge or the hit. This state is precarious and temporary. When the high reaches its peak the dangerous low is close behind. Narcissism is bi-polar in its intensity. Many people who have lived or are living with an individual who has Narcissistic Personality Disorder know the sudden lows that come after the highs. Sometimes within minutes of being a 'fun-loving delight' the individual becomes dark, moody and angry. The mood is like a black ink that permeates everything surrounding it. Then the 'walking on broken glass' and the inevitable abuse begins."

Read the whole article.  It's chilling.

So, I chatted with Mom a bit after I had gone to the bakery by myself this morning.  She said, "You need to figure out if you can live without him."  Because you know what?  If we don't make this work, I will literally never see him again.  It isn't as if we're going to live in the same town.  I never saw him before.  I will never see him again. Can I live with that?  Can I live without him in my life?  

Nope.  I can't.

So, what can I live with?  Can I live with this constant up and down roller coaster?  Can I live with the "It's been two hours since I said I loved you and you haven't said it back to me"?  Can I live with feeding this man's ego for the rest of my life?  Can I live with his name-calling and jealousy over (literally) nothing and his lack of compassion or support towards me?  Can I live with his constant distrust of me?  Can I live with creating a life of my own outside of him and his reaction of anger, pouting and depression because of that?  

Nope.  Can't do that either.  

What's the solution? 

Hell if I know.  

I asked him this morning, "Do you think we need some time apart?" to which he responded, "Is that what you want, Amy?" He can't answer directly, god forbid. And then proceeded to say, "I've done so much to make this work", "Are you going to touch me at all?" (not right now, honey) and "You're difficult" (because you're easy?!?, lol).   I asked him if he could live without me the rest of his life.  He said, "I don't want to."  Well, hell, I don't want to either, but I could if I had to....because I will survive.  I may never date another man for as long as I live, but I will survive.  

He left for work 3 hours earlier than usual.  He took my car.  He left his dog and cat. Presumably, he'll be back. I have a lot of thinking and some tough decisions to make in the next 12 hours.  

I think I'll sleep....because honest-to-god, I've developed a form of narcolepsy because of this. "People with narcolepsy experience excessive daytime sleepiness and intermittent, uncontrollable episodes of falling asleep during the daytime."  OK, ok, I don't really have narcolepsy, but dammit if our fighting, tension, ups & downs doesn't wear me out so much that I can't keep my eyes open.  

It's a relief I have the rest of the day to myself.  

And not only this, my friend's mother passed away from pneumonia.  Fuckin' pneumonia, man.  My cousin, Landi, died of it at a very young age and now my friend's mother (who was 71) died because of it.  Get your damn pneumococcal vaccinations, folks, because I'll be damned if pneumonia's going to take someone else.  My friend lost her father just a few years ago and now her mother is gone, too.  My heart aches for her. I don't know how she's holding it together as well as she is. 

I was on the phone with my friend for a little while this morning.  I cried.  Did Chris ask me what it was about or why I was crying or how I was feeling?  Of course not.  *eye roll*

I'm a fucking idiot.