"...I feel the beat in the rythm of my steps, but, sometimes it's a sad song..."

*stream of consciousness...

I have sat down to blog three nights in a row...Each night I have had the burden of something plaguing me...and each night, once I sit with my fingers poised on the keys I opt out...Why? Is it because writing about what happened seemingly creates a "tangibility"? Could it be that reading said diatribe will awaken a whole new crop of emotion? Perhaps a little bit of column A and smidge of column B...All I know is tonight is the first night I have been completely alone (by my choosing, mind you) since it happened and my synapses have been rapid firing in all directions...Self-inflicted retrospection is seldom invigorating and almost always too stark for one's own good - especially in the wake of loss...I am not, by nature of my character, a morbid or depressed indiviual...I don't thrive on a "half-empty" glass...yet, tonight I find myself truly struggling...I know there are supposed to be something like 7 steps of grieving - or some shit like that...but to be quite honest, I never really stopped with the "angry/frustrated" step...To be brutally honest, I find myself oscillating between crying gallons of tears to being pissed that such a bright light was snuffed out in a harsh gust...and I know - more than anything else - I need to eat my own words and take my own damn advice : "What has happened cannot be changed - it is what we walk away with that makes us stronger." But what do I know...

I just "know" that the finality of death is really difficult to conceptualize - especially when it hits close to home...I guess a part of me feels like it died with my aunt...

But don't misinterpret my words...I am not a threat to myself by any means...and I know in no time at all I will be back to my smiling self - once I figure out how to let go...I think my grandpa put it best on monday night - "time heals everything"...so true...and I am positive that I was blessed to have someone so uplifting love me as family...Saying goodbye is just an ugly side to growing up that no one is ever truly prepared to face...

My friends have been so wonderful to me - and so supportive...and I could cry just thinking of how much it means to me to have people around me who care as much as they do...I know I couldn't do this alone - and they have stood by me for everything...

And in the end, I feel loved.