DEC 5, appx. 6 to 8 AM: as i write index cards for middle eastern history, i realize that i am proud of myself for being on top of my work.
-i begin to write another card. it says: "note to self-- you can fucking do it."
-i begin to fear that this is true.
-while i am afraid of not succeeding, i am even more afraid of success.
-why?
-he never told me it would be OK. daddy never said i was allowed to move forward with my life.
-he refused to admit what was going on, thus did not talk about it, and did not have any last words of reassurance for me.
-i know he loved me, but how could he be OK with my forgetting, even for a moment, that he isn't here? and what's more, how could he be OK with my failing to remember all that he went through, & all 14 months of suffering?
-but how might i succeed without forgetting? how can i function without putting it out of my mind? how can i put it out of my mind without feeling guilty?
-little makes a difference:
-not logic
-not reassurance from others
-it just feels wrong.
-why didn't he just tell me it's OK to be OK?
-maybe because it isn't?
-i do not want to be the one to connect the dots.
-forever wondering