Wednesday, September 9, 2009


My... My grandmother is on her deathbed. Do I need to go...

Almost all of my senses tell me "yes".

Except for that stupid one that tells me that I've missed WAY too many work days. I ignore that one.

My grandmother, Violet. She's the reason I'm the way I am. Feeling alone. Feeling inadequate. Feeling lost. Feeling stupid. She's the reason I can't talk to people. She's the reason why I consider myself to be a failure. She's the reason for my past suicidal thoughts (Those are long gone, thankfully, by the way). Every negative has spawned from her.

The only positive I can think of off the top of my head? My thoughts of 'I have to prove her wrong'.

She doesn't remember who I am.

I am a forgotten memory to her.

She doesn't recognize me.

All of those times she's told me how horrible of a human I am, doing things I never did... The only thing I ever wanted from her was a congratulations for ANYTHING I did. They never came. Ever. No matter what I did, how I did it, it was not enough to convince her that I was anything but a failure.

These words stick to me from the trip to Montana I took a few weeks back. They've tore me up in a way not visible on the outside... "Who's Joshua?"

I was almost completely silent the rest of the day.

They make me uneasy just retyping them.

She got pneumonia last Thursday. She's likely not going to make it through next Saturday. Her former house... MY former home... is in ruins. The inspector told us not to even come NEAR it, it's so unlivable.

The only room that doesn't look ruined at all is my former room. The worst room of all? Her former room. The floor is completely warped.

I don't know why I had to say that, I just did.

You know what? I need to go. I NEED to go.

Nothing should stop me.

This what I would say, if it weren't for our car dying. Just now. Thirty five minutes ago. We can't drive it.

What should I do?


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