a dark time of the year
Even in making plans for a Christmas celebration. I send an email, I get impatient and cranky, nobody understands. I cry.
There is not an explanation.
My cousin calls to tell me she had a life-changing event yesterday; she was struck by a car as she crossed a street. She could easily have died. One head knock away from the other side. We both cry as we talk about the trauma from that...like rape or cancer. She could have died.
They make fun of me. Say I have a bad memory because they told me they were coming. And what's the big deal?
Maybe there is not a big deal. Maybe I am a little crazy and controlling.
I am sorry.
Ah, well.
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