Re-reading the entry about my

Re-reading the entry about my grandfather reminded me of the distance I had put between my grandmother and I. My grandmother thought the world of me. She never missed a holiday to send me some kind of gift. She didn’t get the love she deserved from me. I’ve always been distant, even as a little kid. I couldn’t fathom what I had done to earn her love and failing to understand it I stayed away.

I feel so tainted, like I’m some kind of emotional pathogen. Pathetic. Self-absorbed. Worm. You haven’t even lost that many people in your life. What kind of asshole are you that you think you really have that strong an effect on people. Your life is insignificant when compared to the lives of all mankind over the course of time. You aren’t even human. You need a program to map out how to grieve properly. It doesn’t come naturally to you like it does to real humans. You’re all numb inside just trying to say and do the things you see grieving people do in movies and on TV.

“Hold you in his arms, yeah you can feel his disease.”