I'm writing this in the hopes that catharsis will magically cure my insomnia.
A family friend's husband died in a freak accident this week. It was horrible and sudden and all my reactions are wrong and selfish.
I'm angry...have been angry all week, but I didn't let the students know- they don't need that shit.
Life is unfair and random and anytime I forget that is an illusion. But now I want to get back to the self-deception and denial. I don't want the rage under my skin. See, it's all about me and how I feel.
The friend is a sunny person. There's two children who need her and I can't imagine how sharp life will be for her now.
I'm glad she has a huge support system, although that's a poor comfort or unrecognizable comfort when something like this happens. My sister Emma and her friends have been constants at her house, trying to take on some pain when I don't even know if it's possible.
One of my favorite memories of her is when she acted out the "Charlie bit my finger" clip from youtube.
One of my other favorite memories is when she and Emma came down to New Orleans for a visit. We were sitting on the balcony and the guy on the balcony across the way yelled out, "Three blondes! You're gonna take over the city tonight."
On Bourbon, a man with an obscene amount of beads asked her to flash. She demurred and yanked a nice fat strand over his head and wore them for the entire night and morning.
We three had a lot of girl talk during the visit. She was worried that her then-boyfriend would never want to settle down and marry her. My sister and I didn't offer much advice, but listened to her. She did marry him.
And eleven years later she's a widow.
The abject grief on her face at the calling hours is still with me. I picture her walking the halls of their new house and I want the image out of my head.
She didn't deserve this. Her kids didn't deserve this. Everyone says that about these types of tragedies, but this time it's true.
I want my denial back. I want to go to sleep. I want her to have peace.
Those aren't in order of importance, but my selfishness has a loud voice.