Grieving
For Dominique
from 
JoeUser Forums
JoeUser Forums
I came home a few hours early from school today. I threw myself on the couch and sobbed uncontrolably; there was no one left to watch---no one left to hender me from letting it go.
I wished I could have fallen asleep, or at least just laid there in a daze with no thoughts to bring the facts back. But, unfortunately, those thoughts of mine never do stop. I picked myself up and slowly walked through every room in our apartment trying to decide what to do next. I'm not too good at the grieving process.
I turned on the television in my roomates bedroom, then quickly hit the power button again. It hurt too much to know that life does not stop when I need it to. I finally decided on my own room, with my own book, with my own music. Now, after putting in a cd, I was hitting power on my stereo. Italian words I have no comprehension of, that I didn't wish to understand at the moment, floated through the room---through my head.
I lay down on my tiny little bed and picked up my book. After reading the same paragraph a dozen times, I decided to give up on that and just listen. Listen to what? I don't know. As I looked around my room I began to regret hanging up all those posters of various celebrities. I suddenly felt hundreds of eyes on me, watching---watching the tears slide down my cheeks onto my pillow, watching me avoid talking to God, watching me be vulnerable...that's not something I enjoy. I wanted to rip them down, I wanted to make sure they knew this was my room; I could actually control what happened to THEM.
Then I just lay there in the most uncomfortable position imaginable. I was crippled by my pain, hurting too much to adjust myself, not even wanting to be comfortable for fear of being selfish. My unwashed hair lay in tendrals over my tears, mixing with them until they dried and trapped the strands there, stuck to my face. That pain in my head, not so much a headache from crying, but more of a reminder that I was still conscious, this was still real. Damnit.
My friend died last night.
Trinitie
I wished I could have fallen asleep, or at least just laid there in a daze with no thoughts to bring the facts back. But, unfortunately, those thoughts of mine never do stop. I picked myself up and slowly walked through every room in our apartment trying to decide what to do next. I'm not too good at the grieving process.
I turned on the television in my roomates bedroom, then quickly hit the power button again. It hurt too much to know that life does not stop when I need it to. I finally decided on my own room, with my own book, with my own music. Now, after putting in a cd, I was hitting power on my stereo. Italian words I have no comprehension of, that I didn't wish to understand at the moment, floated through the room---through my head.
I lay down on my tiny little bed and picked up my book. After reading the same paragraph a dozen times, I decided to give up on that and just listen. Listen to what? I don't know. As I looked around my room I began to regret hanging up all those posters of various celebrities. I suddenly felt hundreds of eyes on me, watching---watching the tears slide down my cheeks onto my pillow, watching me avoid talking to God, watching me be vulnerable...that's not something I enjoy. I wanted to rip them down, I wanted to make sure they knew this was my room; I could actually control what happened to THEM.
Then I just lay there in the most uncomfortable position imaginable. I was crippled by my pain, hurting too much to adjust myself, not even wanting to be comfortable for fear of being selfish. My unwashed hair lay in tendrals over my tears, mixing with them until they dried and trapped the strands there, stuck to my face. That pain in my head, not so much a headache from crying, but more of a reminder that I was still conscious, this was still real. Damnit.
My friend died last night.
Trinitie
