Steve Hutchison (foomf) wrote,
Steve Hutchison

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Twelfth of January

It's a little over eight years. I came home moderately hopeful after a job interview, and Penny looked like she was asleep, but she was ice cold, and she wasn't moving, no breath, no pulse, no response.
I could relive the whole thing again but I don't have the energy to do so.

It was a cold, dark day like today. I've been having emotional flashbacks all day long, but strange ones. Nothing has been the jagged ripping pain, the empty feeling is still there, but mostly it's been a kind of acceptance.

Three of my friends from church died in the last two months. That was very much like 2005/2006, except that death isn't so much an enemy as a thing that happens, like the cold dark weather.

I'm ready for spring and rebirth.

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