1137 since our other life ended
Today was bad. Worse than usual. There hasn’t been much good lately.
My sister. I can’t stop thinking about her. Every time I close my eyes she’s there. Like someone scorched her into the inside of my eyelids. Like a constant reminder. A warning. A silent accusation. A flip book of memories I want to forget, but with every blink the images turn faster. Most of the time it’s the day I saw her last, with her eyes full of fear. But sometimes, sometimes they are images of happier times. Images of her smile.
I don’t know what hurts more. If I didn’t know happy, if I didn’t know how life could be if it wasn’t for the rabies, then maybe it would be easier to get up in the morning.
It’s getting more bearable with time, it’s true. The pain’s still there, but it’s covered by a layer of numbness, a layer of nothing inside me. Like when Karen gives me a shot before she stitches me up – you know it should hurt, and maybe it does hurt, but you don’t feel it because of the anaesthesia. Time’s my anaesthesia. Today it wasn’t though, today something broke through the numbness. Maybe it’s good. Sometimes you need reminding, sometimes you need to feel the sorrow and despair until you’re almost choking. To show yourself that there’s worse. Or just to remind yourself that you’re still alive despite the emptiness inside.
Pain is a good reminder – the best.
Karen always clicks her tongue when I ask her to patch me up without anaesthesia. But she never refuses me. She, too, knows about the numbness and sorrow, and what we do to make it bearable. She’s got her pills and I’ve got my pain.
Today was bad. But tomorrow will be better. It has to be.
wow how amazing was that? Joshua is so swoon worthy *sigh*
make sure you hit http://www.yabookreads .com tomorrow to read another diary
entry from Joshua!!
Today was bad. Worse than usual. There hasn’t been much good lately.
My sister. I can’t stop thinking about her. Every time I close my eyes she’s there. Like someone scorched her into the inside of my eyelids. Like a constant reminder. A warning. A silent accusation. A flip book of memories I want to forget, but with every blink the images turn faster. Most of the time it’s the day I saw her last, with her eyes full of fear. But sometimes, sometimes they are images of happier times. Images of her smile.
I don’t know what hurts more. If I didn’t know happy, if I didn’t know how life could be if it wasn’t for the rabies, then maybe it would be easier to get up in the morning.
It’s getting more bearable with time, it’s true. The pain’s still there, but it’s covered by a layer of numbness, a layer of nothing inside me. Like when Karen gives me a shot before she stitches me up – you know it should hurt, and maybe it does hurt, but you don’t feel it because of the anaesthesia. Time’s my anaesthesia. Today it wasn’t though, today something broke through the numbness. Maybe it’s good. Sometimes you need reminding, sometimes you need to feel the sorrow and despair until you’re almost choking. To show yourself that there’s worse. Or just to remind yourself that you’re still alive despite the emptiness inside.
Pain is a good reminder – the best.
Karen always clicks her tongue when I ask her to patch me up without anaesthesia. But she never refuses me. She, too, knows about the numbness and sorrow, and what we do to make it bearable. She’s got her pills and I’ve got my pain.
Today was bad. But tomorrow will be better. It has to be.
wow how amazing was that? Joshua is so swoon worthy *sigh*
make sure you hit http://www.yabookreads .com tomorrow to read another diary
entry from Joshua!!
4 comments:
Ok, I now have to read this... I'm intrigued!! Thanks for the awesome post :)
SupaGurl
Dee loves this book. Guess she's not the only one. Looks like I definitely have to add this to my TBR pile. Great review.
Love hearing Joshua's thoughts! So cool!
Ahh! Love this. Awesome to get his POV. I hope we get something from when he's with Sherry! Thank you. :)
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