the danish outpost
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rollercoaster. and not in a good way.

17.06.2002

feeling kinda how a girl feels

i'm hoping that i don't have mushroom eyelids tomorrow. i've been crying up a storm for the last hour or so, and that's never a good thing for the eyelids.

but why, you might ask? sounds like the last few days were wonderful, right? yes, they were. the whole past week was crazy/insane/wonderful. i had the great good fortune to be a part of the most perfect weekend for my best friend. and despite the crap weather, it was all good.

when i got back into town, i went to dinner with a friend who was willing to pamper me. all perfect, n'est pas? i had busted my butt, and should be pampered. he was more than happy to take me out to dinner and listen to me rave about the weekend. so that was the right thing to have happen.

but.

but. while we were having dinner, we heard that there would be a memorial service the next day (today, by now) for the brother of a close friend.

the whole thing hits too close for me in many ways, because she lost her brother in much the same way that i lost my aunt. but i had to go. i wanted to be there for her, at least to show up and let her know that there are a ton of people who care about her, and, by extension, her family. i got up and drove over to the cemetery. i went into the chapel. i listened, and prayed, and was grateful that so many people said wonderful, positive, funny things about her brother.

and then i went back to my office, and wondered for not the first time at how wound up people can get about things that don't really matter. my computer shit the bed in the first five minutes i was there. and i didn't care. i rebooted (RBS) and walked out to get coffee.

while i was out getting coffee, i dropped off a shitload of film from this weekend. and then i decided to drop by and see my florist to tell him what a fantabulous job he did with the flowers this past weekend. god love him - as i was walking out, he gave me a big smooch and a handful of roses to 'get [me] thru the week'. that was the brightest spot in my day, put a huge smile on my face, and got me thru most of the rest of the day.

i met up with several friends after work, and had a pretty good night. but on the way home, it all hit me again, sort of like running headfirst into a brick wall at 90 miles an hour. i'm not at all sure how i got home in one piece, because i was in tears (big ones) the whole way. and when i got home, i fell on the floor and wailed. huge keening wails, rocking back and forth, thinking about Daniel Pearl and my aunt and my friend's brother and her cousin and my high school boyfriend's father and g--d and prayer and the justness or injustness of this life and how i wish we could all make some sense out of the violent, unfair things that happen to us or the people we care about.

here's what happened: he was a wonderful, trusting, open person. and he met the wrong people. he was executed, dismembered, and disposed of in the trash.

reread that last paragraph. i know. it hurts, and it sucks. but think about it. i've been thinking about it a lot lately. how can we watch something like that happen to people we care about and still trust? how? how, and why?

in the midst of my wailing and keening, i realized something.

we *need* to trust. despite all the crap that happens, we need to trust, and explore, and learn. because if we don't, we stop being human.

*deep breath* i'm not really feeling like i want to trust just now. i regret that i never had the chance to meet my friend's brother. and i mourn my aunt every day. but when i wake up tomorrow, that's exactly what i'm going to do - trust. because if i don't - if we all don't make that effort, painful as it might be - then he and she lost their lives in vain. if for no other reason than the fact that i want to honor his life and his death, her life and her death, i'll get up tomorrow and trust.

maybe - maybe tomorrow will be better.

yesterday :: tomorrow

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