They Caught him

I learned yesterday, the asshat who murdered my friend and her parents was captured. I broke out in tears of joy. I was worried they were not going to catch him.

Knowing he is caught does little to bring her back, or easy the hurt knowing I can never pick up the phone and call her again. But it does do something. I know he's not out there, getting away with it. I know he's not out there, enjoying his life. I know that there's not going to be that moment when he realizes so much time has passed that, even if he is still wanted, no one is really looking anymore.

He's caught. He's going to have to answer for the crimes. There is a peace, of sorts, in that.

Missing Dawn

Lately, all is seems I have talked about is death. That’s how my life feels too.

I bought a condo. I’m moved in (mostly) and I have a place of my own. I should be happy.

I have a great boyfriend, who loves me and tried his best to keep me happy. Lately he’s been working extra hard at that. I should be happy.

I have a great job, which works with me, and understands my life kind of sucks right now, emotionally. They have been great. And my boss gave me candy for xmas yesterday. I should be happy.

I should be happy.

So why is it I am not? Coming in to work today, it seemed everything was going wrong. I woke up with back pain (thank you 2011 car accident). I tried to get up, pain spasmed, and fell out of bed, whacking my knee. Joy, twice as much pain. I made a breakfast shake, couldn’t get it open. James tried to joke around and make me smile when I asked him to open it, but all I wanted was it open, so that pissed me off more. Finally get it open (we’re in the car now) and my seatbelt unbuckles itself. Apparently today it doesn’t want to stay clasped. All I can think is, great, the van wants me to die in a car accident. Fine, bring on the car accident.

I shouldn’t be this negative. But I am. Bulldog, our roommate told me I was grouchy this morning. I told him I’m having a bad day. James told me to turn it around. Like it’s ever that easy.

I got out of the car to go to work, and I kept thinking, this would be the perfect time for the universe to send me a sign. Something to tell me everything will be okay, and I’m still loved. Like a bird flying down to land in front of me.  Didn’t happen.  I kept expecting it to, right up until I got into the building. I was actually disappointed. Maybe that’s wrong of me. I mean, I don’t believe in the Christian god. I’m pagan. I have had some very powerful points in my life where I felt I connected to them. Maybe they gave up on me? Maybe they got tried of my pessimistic attitude. Or maybe there is no god-force and it was all my imagination to begin with. But I was expecting someone to step up and come through, and it didn’t happen.

I greeted the receptionist and security guard as I always do. Happy smile, cheerful voice, kind words. All forced, save the kindness. I can be kind while being depressed and ready to give up. I just have to force the smile and cheery feelings. I got on the elevator and I wanted to cry.

On the trip up, I realized I’m still missing Dawn. While we might not have talked much these last few years, because I got cut off from everyone during my marriage and I still haven’t gotten around to fixing that with everyone, I knew she was there. I knew I could pick up the phone and call her, or poke her on facebook and say hi, and we could pick back up where we left off.

Only now, we can’t.

Some asshole got pissed off her father wouldn’t let him be a drunk while working for him (my best guess given everything I have found out) and he shot them all in their sleep, and then burned their house down. Basically, he’s a spoiled 59 year old brat who never grew up, and threw a temper tantrum when he didn’t get his way, and now my friend is dead.

I think they call this survivor’s remorse, but I thought you kind of had to be part of the tragic event to get it. All I know, is I’m sitting her going, why not me? Dawn had a loving husband and 4 kids to look after. I’ve got a boyfriend and 3 cats. I’m sure it would suck for James, but the cats would get over it. Her kids aren’t going to. My life fairly well sucks to begin with, but hers was good. So why am I still here?

I don’t want anyone giving me that “God/Universe has great things planned for you, that’s why you’re still here.” They had their chance this morning with the pigeons and other birds readily available in this city, and they blew it. If they had something great planned for me, they’d have let me know it would be okay and I was still loved with a little feathered path crosser.

BLEW IT.

So no, I don’t believe that’s the case. James said something about the sunny beauty inside me this morning. How it was hiding and buried under the stress. That sun is about to die. I can feel the light and warmth flickering out as I type. I used to have so much hope. Now, I just have pain.

I miss Dawn.  It’s like I’ve lost most of the bright, happy stars in my life. I’m sure her husband and kids miss her way more than I do. This only makes the pain worse, because I know how much I miss her. I don’t know how they breathe with that kind of pain.

I keep thinking about the fun stuff we did together. They say you’re supposed to focus on the happy times with the people you have lost. I suppose you’re not supposed to focus on how you’re not going to make any new happy times with them, because they are gone. I suppose this exercise is also not supposed to make you look at your current life, and think how much it sucks now. Mine does. I look at all the fun and happy times I had with Dawn, and I realize I don’t have that feeling about life anymore. I don’t know where I lost it. I don’t think I can get it back.

Back then, I knew how to smile and mean it. Anymore, it’s always a fake smile. Something forced to make people around me think I’m doing fine. Back then, I had fun, and enjoyed doing things. Anymore, I fake it so that no one knows I hate going out, I hate hanging with friends, because I feel so depressed. There is no happy in my life. Holding my cats, I don’t focus on how happy they make me. I wonder if they will care when I die, and if I did die, if they would be okay. There is no happy in my life.

There is death. And death only mocks me because it comes for everyone around me, but not me. It’s like Death is saying “Oh, I know you’re there. But I’m enjoying your suffering, so I’m going to pick off people around you, so that you know I know you are there. But I’m not going to get you just yet. I want to watch you suffer.”

James would tell me “See, just have fun. Stop suffering and Death won’t enjoy it and he’ll stop messing with you.” Which in a round about way I suppose means if I want to die, I should enjoy life so that death gets mad and kills me. But it doesn’t work that way. It isn’t a switch I can flick on. I can’t just wake up and say “I’m going to enjoy life so hard today, that Death will get a sugar cavity!” I wish I could. When I get up, when I look at the world, I don’t see colors anymore. I see grays, and blacks. I don’t see happy smiles. I see pain and suffering. I don’t see love. I see heartbreak and heartache. I see what I see. I don’t know how to change it. I don’t think I can. I’m broken. My sky isn’t full of shooting stars and twinkling lights. It’s just black and dull. My morning isn’t brightly colored with pretty clouds. My morning is blood red and filled with screams of terror.

And I am tired of pretending it’s anything else.

Losing Uncle Pete, and Falling Stars

Seriously, this year can be over now. I’ve had it with all of this.

Yesterday, my horse died. Star was the last foal ever sired by King Plauditt, who was apparently a high up Appaloosa Stud. I had always wanted to get her bred, but never did. She was 30, according to my mother. She was 2 when we got her, and we’d had her 28 years.

I had always promised her we would be her forever home. I seem to have kept this promise. I am just sad I couldn’t say goodbye. I had been telling James just the other day that she was getting old, and she’d be gone soon. Maybe I knew. Maybe she knew.

She’s my Star, even though her pedigree says “Roman Plauditt Straw Gal” on it. She’s always been Star. She was my girl, and I will miss her.

But to make matters worse… While I expected my horse to die sooner or later, I didn’t expect that, on the same day, my great Uncle Pete would also pass away.  Two in one day, and I’m done. I’m still not over Dawn’s murder and now this?

Uncle Pete was always an odd one. I had Uncle who loved to hug you, who picked you up and smiled and laughed and joked. I remember Uncle Pete always being rather aloof. He’d sort of hug me. He never seemed very social when I was around him. But he was a good person. I knew this. And I will miss him.

2013 needs to GTFO without anyone else dying. I don’t think I can handle it.