Time seems to have slowed to a crawl . . . it's almost as if I'm traveling on a road of knee deep mud. I actually let stuff at work get to me on top of everything else that's going on in my head right now . . . well, work itself wasn't anything big . . . So Dan refused to talk to me while I was off the clock . . . Corey wanted me to talk to Dan . . . Corey knew what I wanted to talk about and I guess he felt it was important . . . but no . . . Dan refused to speak with me on Monday . . . so now, I'm gonna bypass Dan and speak with Marc instead . . .
When Dan refused to speak to me Monday, that was the "straw that broke the camels back" . . . Brenda and Mario were there and that's probably the only thing that kept me from breaking down entirely . . . I did cry though . . . Brenda and I went out into the outside garden area and talked . . . I was just so frustrated at that point . . . That simple thing shouldn't have been anything that would have caused tears, but it did . . . Dan knew that I wanted to talk to him . . . I had told him Friday . . . and again almost as soon as he got in Monday . . . And he just doesn't seem to care . . .
But that's all besides the point . . . everything has a way of stacking up on a person at the worst possible time . . . in 5 days it will be the third anniversary of my brother's death . . . and I haven't been back to visit my dad and my step mom since then . . . I haven't seen my brother's headstone . . . I've seen where he's laid, but that's only 'cause we were at the site to finish out the funeral
I can't even really cry anymore . . . all that ever happens is a few tears, then they're gone . . . I'll still feel the need to cry . . . I've been on the verge of a good solid cry for a while . . . but I can't cry . . . I seem to wipe the tears away before they even start . . .
Perhaps the best words for this are contianed within a poem that I wrote back in March
Renewed Pain
I feel an emptiness within me,
A void.
With one look, the hole I worked so hard to fill,
Lay before me, gaping, black, hungry,
And empty once again.
All at once my courage and strength drain from my body,
Into the dark canyon,
Leaving me frail, weak, afraid.
I'd create a lake of tears,
But I cannot cry.
My tears for him ran dry long ago.
The healing reversed.
Scars turn to wounds.
Wounds that weep for eyes that can't.
They weep tears of a long ago pain, burried deep within.
With renewed strength, they wash over me,
Drenching me, weighing me down.
Weak and unable to stand,
I fall.
