6 Months…

And another Monday the 8th, too. 6 months exactly.

I woke up naturally at 10am for the first time in weeks this morning, because I got no sleep Saturday night and managed to crash immediately after Game of Thrones last night. I think my parents suspected I needed it, because they left me there on our huge couch, only nudging me once to tell me they were going up to bed, whenever that was.

I just got back from the Bradshaw funeral home. Because the universe is fucking ridiculous like that, one of Ross’s high school friends lost his twin brother last Friday after a motorcycle accident. I didn’t know this friend before Ross’s own death, but he came to the service and had so many nice things to say about my brother, both there and on Facebook – in fact, he wrote on Ross’s wall just a couple weeks ago. I sent him a note, offering to talk if he ever needed it. I doubt he’ll take me up on it, since we don’t know one another, and that’s okay. I was there. I know the offer is enough a lot of the time, and that there’s no way in hell you can or will actually take everyone up on them, because there’s too many, it’s too much, and it’s just too hard.

But even so, I got into the car with my parents and quietly rode to the funeral home with them. I got out of the car, and suddenly I was looking down this long parking lot full of cars where I remember standing on a similarly gloomy afternoon with my five best friends surrounding me, asking me if I was okay as I tried to prepare myself to go to Jacob’s visitation the day before my own brother’s service at the same location. That day, I was able to do it, because that family and mine – we were in this together as much as any two families could be. And I’d steeled myself for that entire weekend, I was numb that whole week, I was able to take the calming breath and nod and grip all the strength I could muster in my fists and walk through those doors.

Not today. I wanted to, so badly. But I immediately felt my chin crumple, and the muscles that contort my mouth into something ugly whenever I cry began to ache because they’ve been worked to their limit and beyond for the past six months and my parents noticed, immediately asking me if this was too much and before I could figure it out for myself they were handing me the car keys and telling me it was okay, I could stay here, they’d tell Ross’s friend I sent my thoughts with them. “She didn’t want come,” I heard dad telling mom, and that wasn’t the truth, but he’d heard how long I hesitated earlier when he asked me if I’d been joining them. Wanting to, and being able to haven’t lined up with each other in my brain and body for a long time.

So I sat in the car and waited, cursing my phone for having a fairly defunct battery, and feeling like a tool for not being able to show the same courtesy to Ross’s friend that he had for us. I knew he’d probably understand, but it’s frustrating to feel this way.

6 months. Monday the 8th. And then I found out that they tore down the apartment today. I’d gotten word that it was going to happen a few weeks ago, I was upset, but I’d assumed it had already happened by now. No, apparently they just had to do it on the six month day exactly. So much of his stuff was there. We’ve gotten most salvageable things out of it – though that’s not a lot, it’s more than it could have been had his room not been in the back of the house. But still, it makes my stomach turn at it just all being gone. Practically erased. And for his friends still in Eau Claire, it’s got to feel even worse.

I felt bad telling my parents that when they got back in the car and we started driving home. It’s a short drive and all, but driving and crying don’t go together well. We’ve all found that out the hard way a lot. A lot.

Just another thing that makes it over when everything in me says it shouldn’t be.

I’m in the middle of another entry about LucasArts closing and what that means to me and why it’s hitting me hard but also all the fun memories I have involving those games and my brother, but I’ll finish it another time when my head’s not throbbing. It’s a more fun kind of entry anyway. And I’m going to Seattle on Wednesday – which I don’t think I’ll absorb until I’m literally packing Wednesday morning because traveling anywhere by myself seems so dauntingly impossible right now, but I know I’ll be so, so glad to spend some time with Kevin and Chris, even if half of it looks like it’ll be taken up by helping one or both of them work on moving in some fashion.

But for now I really just want to go back to sleep, which is sort of annoying on the day I finally managed to have a regular person’s sleep schedule.

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