Holy Fucking Shit, I assumed they just found her after the event

DO NOT let this eat your ass. If it's mock and/or a college assignment, it's fiction.

My best friend in high school told every foreign language examiner that her mother was a pilot and her father was dead. Neither were true, but she got shorter exams with fewer unprepped questions than everyone else....

Or she just expediently listed those living under the same roof/registered at the same address 'cause it was just a college assignment (presumably). :eyebrow:

Cope however you feel is right for you. Push us away if you need room or just tell us to shut up. But please please please, don't push Amanda away, trust me, this is important.

There's Lumberthing I don't want to tell you
 

This.
And Bruce is right, too. Cope in the way you need to, and rely on Amanda.
What you describe is unimaginable.



Sent from my iPad using Tapatalk

Help your peace of mind by keeping an open mind about whatever else comes to light, that Ripley has done, since Ripley can no longer explain them.

You can remind yourself to do this by remembering that you put your own daughter's death announcement in a forum titled Nothingland: Something about nothing - ... time-wasters, for the whole internet connected world to see. Would it be fair for the world to judge how you felt about your daughter on nothing more than that?

It just added a layer of regret that I wasn't more involved in her daily. Spencer said she thought I'd be dead by then. Because I smoke and drink and don't eat healthy.

Tara texted to tell me that the cremation is compete. I went to reply and swype brought up the word, Ashley. Ash-ley. Ripley is ashes now.

Really gone.

Turns out, that is the crazy default human condition, which we all share:

We don't care for ourselves, and we don't take care of ourselves, even under penalty of shame, pain, and death. And nobody, it seems, can make us do that. Even our loved ones.

We don't believe we are valuable. The idea that Ripley is not valuable is a laughable idea. Her potential, unmistakable. But we all have a light that we can't see for ourselves. We are all beautiful and important, every one of us.

My friend decided not to treat her cancer, that was the same thing. She had such a bright light, but she couldn't see it. You and I treat ourselves poorly, that is the same goddamn thing.

Couple of months ago J had chest pains -- and fought tooth and nail going to the ER. I had to force her to go. Her family has a history of heart trouble.

Wise words.

I think we all have an inner light only we can see. Others can't see it, or more importantly see when it goes out.

RIP-ley, a little gentler.

Every song has a line that hurts me right now. Spencer made a playlist of songs they both like. She had relatively shit taste in music, thank fuck. Or a lot of my songs would be wrecked for me.



This one almost caught me at work tonight.





because of these lines.:

The lyric sites say, 'as an arrow blue and red'

But it's clearly, 'your eyes were narrow, blue and red'

Her eyes were brown. But her eyelids were blue and her eyes were bloodshot and slightly open. And half her left tit was exposed.

When I got to the hospital, Shelby was alone in the doorway. She said only, "she died"

My head swam. Felt like I was going to fall down.

I had to walk through the place with all eyes on me as I went around the desk area and to a blue curtain. There was a body on the table. Her hair.

I came into the room from behind her right shoulder. I don't remember how I got to the other side. Her head was tilted left, away from me. Did I walk around her feet or head? I put my hand on her brow. She was warm.

Then a small female doctor was at my left elbow. I was bewildered. She said, she drank a poison that bonds to red blood cells. No oxygen can attach.

She offered a chair. Maybe I swooned. I declined. Said something stupid about it just being another Thursday to them. It was Wednesday.

That's something that stuck with me from a TV show. Tuesday.

That line in that song.brought these images back.

Then Shelby came in. She pulled the blanket over her boob and layed across her. I didn't have any idea what to do. None. I couldn't hold either of them. Ripley was wearing the scarab earrings Amanda had just given her. Amanda was ghost white. We left Shelby with her and went to find Spencer. He was sitting on the curb outside. He said something disturbing like, she didn't change her mind. She never said she didn't want to die.

I haven't seen him since. Talk to him nearly every day, but he's fine. He is grieving alone.

When Shelby came back out, I tried to apologize for some stupid text about our cats. Then tried to offer help relocating. Ridiculous. Asshole.

She hitd her face and told me to shut up. So I hugged my boy and told him not to do this. Then I drove home. Hadn't shed a tear yet. Until I touched my doorknob. No. I touched the lavender Ripley had just planted
Then sobs and tripping feet took me to the kitchen sink. I cry ugly. Not good at it.


I'm writing this here so I can remember the surreal feeling. Don't know if I'm getting it. I'm feeling very sorry for myself. And guilty for that. I cried in the car on the way home listening to that song. And when Amanda greeted me she knew. And I fled to the bathroom and let some more snot bubbles out of my nose. Then I went up to my bed and laid down. Thought I had got my shit together, but when I came back down, the pain on her face chased me to the porch. Where the phone rang in my pocket at 10:45 that night.

There's nowhere to hide from it. Just have to keep going through it. I can tell myself lots of smart things. I'm very good at that. Bullshit talk.

My Forte.

I've been wondering how you are doing. Your description is very vivid and certainly catches the surreality, for me at least.
Don't beat yourself up about stuff.

Sent by magick

Exactly this.