I want to spend today trying to forget what today is. I don't want to look at anyone in the eyes for too long, because then they'll see and then I'll get the looks of sympathy, pity and whatever else. I want to go to work, I want to throw lettuce around (bork bork bork!), I want to throw pickle slices at people and miss their heads by a mile, and sling burgers together in a madcap fashion. I want it to be just like any other day.
But so help me God...if I decide I want to crawl into a dark corner somewhere because it's gotten to be too much...let me. Because it's still too soon. It's still too fresh a memory for me. If I'm going to get through the day, I want to do it as though it never happened. So if you see me, and you want to tell me you're sorry because of what happened 2 years ago today, and that you're here for me if I need you...please don't. I know you're here, but now is not the right day to tell me. I don't want any reminders that I lost one of my best friends, that I still have the couch she died on (even though it's since been moved to a different part of the living room) and I still wear the pink robe every day that was her death shroud. I wear it. Every fucking day. I wear it and I bear with every single bit of bullshit drama that comes my way because I somehow feel like I deserve it. Karma baby. I didn't cause Traci's death, as soon as I knew something was wrong, I called 9-1-1...but because I believe that I didn't act fast enough, I feel like I deserve every bad thing that happens to me. It's fucked up, it's wrong and I know it. I know I don't have any reason to feel this way. It wasn't my fault, I couldn't have known, blah blah blah. I WAS RIGHT THERE. I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN.
Traci is always with me. I'm getting the chills right now. I've been drinking a little tonight, and I hope to sleep fairly deeply. Because I don't intend to let this anniversary shut me down. It's another day, I want to live it as though that were true. Peace out.