A page is turned.

I just had dinner with my Ohana (the friends I went to Hawaii with). As we sat around eating this huge chinese meal, polishing off a bottle of Merlot, and talking, it became very apparent that we are adults. The topics of conversation (besides the normal relationship, eharmony, "i almost asked a girl out" type talk), we talked a little about abortion, friends/acquaintances who have children (married and not), and a friend's funeral.

A year ago, a piece of my childhood vanished; I took a big leap into adulthood. A year ago today, I started a 7 day stay in a hospital, sleeping a total of 20 hours in 7 days, and losing one of the most important people in my life. The longest, most horrible weeks of my life. The images and memories of that week are indelible, often so vivid and clear that they block the smaller, subtle, sweet memories of 24 years.

The stress that I'm currently under is not helping, as I never expected this rush of grief, sadness, longing, and loneliness. The strain is just exacerbating that. I find myself afraid of being left. Not just in major things like forever, but in the tiniest small things (lunches, parties, rides)...feeling excluded, left behind, or left out. Fear of being left.

I miss her sorely. I miss her wisdom, her smile, her laughter, her calm perspective even amid the torrential waves around her. I miss her cooking. I miss her hugs.

Longest week...

Wake me up when September ends....