Just when I think I have become unaffected, desensitized, and finally, numb, I am reminded of my emotions. A change in the tides once again carries me out to sea where I am rendered foreign by the surrounding aquatic life-forms.
I hung out with Billy almost all day and all night yesterday. You wouldn’t even recognize him, I didn’t at first. We had a going away party for Carrie. She left for Yellowstone today and will be there for the next three months along with my brother. Your brother, Tommy, showed up with his girlfriend, but he pretty much kept to himself and his guitar. I didn’t realize how much I was affected by your death until I was hanging out with your friends and family in Bay City. In consoling Gwen and trying to be strong for her, I ignored my own feelings. I am disgusted by your suicide, and, unable to produce any sort of comfort, acceptance, or peace by your departure, I am at a complete loss. I am sick of living with death. Murder, suicide, old age, freak accidents, disease: how can happiness and contentment be acquired when death is a stalker waiting in unforeseen shadows? I never get used to this.