Well That Didn't Work

LIKE I SAID, SOMETHING ALWAYS DIES IN APRIL
LONG ENTRY WARNING! Ok, that being said, a lot's happened in the last few days. I got an extension on my paper on the psychology of religion and went home on Friday, though not in that order. The stress I've been under recently has given me a fairly severe case of writer's block, highly unusual for me (especially on a topic I'm so interested in.) I'd thought that going home and getting a change of scenery would help cut down on the stress a bit.

I was wrong.

I don't know what the hell I was thinking, why on earth I thought going back to New Jersey would be relaxing; it's possible that my vision was clouded by the pleasantry of my mother's visit two weeks ago. Regardless, I am once again fearing going home over the summer. If classes and bartending don't keep me sufficiently occupied (did I mention that? I'll be taking an introductory biology class at William Paterson University and a sign language class at Montclair State University, as well as bartending - as many hours as possible - over the summer) over the course of those four months, refuge has been offered to me at Adi's (45 minutes from my house) and Mitch's (here in D.C.) thankfully. Four months...God help me.

Everyone in that house is miserable. My father is stressed about his job and the costs of everyone's health and my education, my sister is stressed because she's finally started understanding why I hate New Jersey, and my mom is dealing with the emotional effects her cancer has on her as well as the stresses of her family, myself included. My sister was the real problem this weekend. She seemed almost as stressed as I was , but unlike me, who slept and relaxed to cope, she took her stress out on everyone around her. For example, I'd promised to help her burn a cd sometime while I was home. Unfortunately for me, I was sleeping at the time my sister wanted the cd and that just wasn't acceptable. I was awoken from my nap and yelled at...real relaxing, don't you think? So, yeah...I didn't get the rest I needed, so I'm still sick and even more stressed.

Anyway, my friend Mikey gave me a ride back to D.C. and is crashing in my room. We're gonna do something when I'm done with classes for the day. Tomorrow, I'll finish writing that damn psychology of religion paper . Finals start on Thursday...

...and now to explain the title of this entry. What I was originally going to post today (before the events of yesterday) was the following:

"Reading through my last month or so of posts, I realized how little I actually write about here. For example, (and I'd appreciate no criticism) Dennis and I talked on the phone for about an hour Wednesday night, it was so nice to hear his voice again. We were trying to determine if we could be friends or not. God knows, we both want to, but we're both worried that it'll be too painful...me more than him, I imagine. He certainly still cares about me, worries about my dad and maintains the role of protector, though in thought more than actions now. I guess we'll see how it goes."

So, we'd been talking more and more since the beginning of the month, a few hours online here and there and the one time on the phone...that's the backstory to what happened yesterday. Yesterday morning, I woke up in tears at 5:00AM. I waited until a reasonable hour and called Dennis, leaving a message on his voicemail, "Let me know what the doctor said." I finally heard from Den a little after midnight this morning...his father died yesterday at 4:30AM. Weird and thoroughly upsetting. Dennis isn't doing well.

There are a number of ways people handle being upset. Dennis' way was to rationalize everything, to make everything logical. "There's no point to crying because it won't solve the problem" kind of thing. The trouble is, when people like that come across something that upsets them so much they can't logic it out, it hits them HARD. The few times I saw Dennis genuinely upset while we were dating, it was bad...crying, snot dripping bad.

Our conversation last night, though short, was very meaningful, at least to me. When I visited Dennis in Miami this summer, I spent most of my time with him, a little with his younger brother, Jason. The last day I was there, while Dennis was taking a shower, Dennis' father sat me down and started talking to me; it was a conversation Dennis never knew we had...

Me: Please, call me if you need/want anything...I really am a good therapist and I'm upset too. I did meet him...wrote him letters, once or twice
Dennis: what did you write him?
Me: After I left, I wrote him a letter or two, just general stuff, thanking him, talking about you, how proud he should be; I told him about Washington at the end of August when I moved here
Me: You didn't know this? I could have sworn I told you.
Dennis: did you ever get a response? no
Me: No, never got a response.
Me: But he did talk to me before I left last year, we had a nice chat the last day I was there, or the day before I left...you were in the shower
Dennis: what did you talk about?
Me: He just told me how nice he thought I was, that he was proud of his son for many things, but especially for his taste in women, lol. There was more, but that was the most of it...I mean, it was significantly expanded. He was proud of you, told me to take care of you in college...and (I remember this really clearly, cuz I thought it was hysterical) to tell him if you stepped out of line
Me: Didn't phrase it like that, but told me no less
Dennis: how did he phrase it?
Me: Let me think for a second...something like "and you let me know if he ever does anything that upsets you, you're a sweet girl" He drove me crazy for upsetting you so much, but we had a really nice talk, so I wrote him a few times to keep in touch. He really was so proud of you...you could hear it in his voice, even through the heavy accent. It was a really meaningful conversation, it's why I'm so upset.

Dennis seemed grateful for the information. He left shortly after...his away message read "Someone once told me something always dies in April." He seemed so upset, not that he shouldn't have. God I wanted to give him a hug, I wanted a hug from him too...I am upset about his father's death, not simply that Dennis' is upset, and Dennis is the only one I can mourn with. My parents wouldn't care, no one here or in NJ knew him, only Dennis.

I cried quite a bit yesterday...cried the whole way back to Washington...I just kept repeating "two more weeks, two more weeks, two more weeks" to myself. The problem is, the problems, the stess...they don't end in two weeks, they just change to new problems and stress. I don't get it...people lose things that they love when they take them for granted...I am so grateful for the things I have...the things I had. All I keep thinking is "what's next?" Look at my life and tell me you wouldn't be asking the same thing...

It'll be ok...I just don't know how quite yet. Comments ()

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