bliss-sad's Diaryland Diary

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The borderline part of my brain says that love doesn't exist when it isn't in front of me.

I'm really fucking depressed.

Husband is in Florida with his family. In theory it's amazing and special and deserved and exactly where he should be.

I am home alone, trying to think positive, purposeful thoughts while my brain lays out various hypothetical scenarios in which everyone I love dies.

My friend's death is weighing on me.

I fell asleep easily but woke up too early. I've been hiding in my room, forcing the little dog to cuddle me until the sun is high enough to feel safe again. The big dog is at my parent's, so I feel vulnerable and scared. Which, honestly, doesn't seem too far out of the norm for me.

I can't stop thinking about everyone I love dying. I can't stop marveling about how one minute, you're standing in the kitchen absent mindedly scrolling through social media when all of a sudden, you scroll past someone's death.

It's the 2nd time I've found out that way.

Cory was a good friend to me and I wish I would have been a better friend to him. I just always assumed he would be there. For 13 years, he was always there. I took it for granted. He was a good fucking person. He played by the rules. And he still fucking died too young.

The sun is almost up. Merry Christmas.

7:22 a.m. - 12.25.18

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