Ghost in the Shell

I tried sleeping last at 11 something and then 2am. No luck. Did not actually get to sleep until well after 5am for me. Wash rested a bit better.

I spent a while in the downstairs bath with the water running just crying. Sobbing. Letting the moans of pain in my heart just come out. Is there even an English word for that kind of pain? Keening? Howling? Moaning?

It's the sound a human, I make in the dead of night when my brain cannot run from the facts of my life and existence. It's the sound brought forth by the pain of an unnatural and shortened life.

This should have been different. Things should have gone another way. Does the world balance? Is my family ever going to exist or is my gift death?

Now comes the time when all my old work that I was doing and studying to become a board certified forensic anthro/ osteologist. At night Death comes around.

I wanted a husband to live with me for at least 50 years. I wanted to be pregnant not just miscarry. I wanted a Life, not just an existence- an open and unresting mind.

Sure, right now Wash is beating the odds by incalculable leaps. This I know all too well though is real life. This is not a story. This is not "scripted". I have no choice but to make the best, happiest, and most loved time for him now, because I cannot afford to let myself think of a "happy ending".

There is no "happy ending" with brain cancer. Not for him, not for me, not for any of us.

No one ever said to me that Life was fair. This I know.

I can still mourn over the losses I have to witness day in and out though.

Life today tastes of dead ash and dried dreams.