"Today was a good day--better than most--didn't see me no demons; didn't fight with no ghost." A thought runs through my head: What if Lester really isn't dead, but he's been hidden away by his family & the powers that be, so as to keep him from he and I's relationship. I imagine one night, while sitting on my balcony, I see him running towards my door in a panic after he's escaped from whatever place of captivity he would be in... I'm pretty sure that's denial. I assume I woke up in that place this morning: denial. However, as beautiful that moment would be, it's not going to happen. I watched them roll his body out in the black bag from his apartment: he's dead. Last night I screamed a dialog to him, "I'M SO MAD AT YOU RIGHT NOW!" Then the flood of tears followed.
My boss told me that I need some sort of purpose from this point on. Another friend told me it's a good day to focus on the blessings in my life that Jehovah has given me. It's hard, especially waking up in this place of denial. Mariah should be in town today. It's time to find some purpose, I guess. I'm tired, however, and I feel like just giving up. I feel like inviting death in to end the grief. Not death by my own means, but a natural means. All of these thoughts are fleeting, and grasping for straws. I'm still alive, and I may have more years ahead of me than I think I do.