I’ve been back from uni about a week and it’s been lovely. really nice weather, park hopping around London, cocktails in the sunshine, playing Cards Against Humanity. sometimes someone shares a memory of you and we get that bittersweet thing where it’s achey to be without you but really good to be with other people who remember you and have good stories. it’s hard too because I was with you all of last summer until you went into hospital. scary to think it’s coming up on a year since your diagnosis.
you would laugh so hard at my current ‘set list’ for prayers. I mean, you have complete contempt for religion so you would laugh anyway, and my family aren’t so religious and never really taught me how to do it so I’m sure it’s totally abnormal. but I’m aiming for once a day at the minute and I’m asking:
God, please look after Flo and Zoe for me.
please look after L and L, and K (Zoe’s family)
please look after R and A, F and F (your family)
and please look after Truly and Ziggy Stardust, amen. (yes, I pray daily for your dogs.)
my mum won’t let me meet her sort-of boyfriend yet, and I really want to. I’m so judgemental though, I think she’s nervous I’ll reject him as Unworthy. if you thought I was bad with our friends’ boyfriends just imagine how protective I am of my mother. we’re getting on pretty good because she likes that I’m a helpful adult now, but I do feel the responsibility and it makes me a little scared and tense and snappy.
my sister, meanwhile, claims she can commune with the dead. she said some benevolent spirits helped her through her maths A level, and there were lots of ghosts at Exeter when she went for an open day. she even claims to have seen one today. so I’m 87% sure she’s full of shit, but you know I run anxious and she is such a little weirdo there’s part of me that worries she’s psychotic and having hallucinations. but I’ve probably just got schizophrenia on my mind because I’ve been watching too much Criminal Minds and because of Zoe, right?
idk Flo, I should probably sort out this constant pervasive anxiety thing. it’s weird because I feel like I’ve always lived like this in a way, calculating worst case scenarios, feeling real fear that they’ll come to pass, and navigating my life to avoid that worst outcome. it’s just that all that fear was validated by losing two very close friends one after the other, so now it’s less easy to dismiss those fears as irrational. but I have always sort of lived with mad high anxiety and I probably would have kept on contently if I hadn’t started this – letter writing, journalling, blogging, whatever you want to call it. doing a real honest inventory of myself as I grieve. and thinking about who I want to grow up to be. I don’t want to live like this forever, you know, I want to be brave and not held back by fears. my experience of counselling was so shitty, but it’s probably worth trying again. anyway, thanks for being a sounding board for all this garbage. I love you.
Game of Thrones starts again tonight and I’ve got a couple problems. first, they’ve run out of books which means they’ll be making stuff up and the stuff they make up is usually just more rape, which I really feel there’s enough of to begin with. I also have that achey thing where I used to watch it with you, and you were all excited for the new season, and now you don’t get to see it and I don’t want to see it without you. and then there’s the heavy themes of loss, especially with Jon and Sansa who are my faves, and I don’t want to feel their grief vicariously, I’ve got my own. I couldn’t even finish Agent Carter, because she missed Steve and I miss you and you never got to see Agent Carter; I swear to God, Flo, I’ll be mad about that my whole life. so I’ll probably still watch Game of Thrones, and I’ll tell you what happens, but I’ll be thinking of that big card I made for the wall of your hospital room with Jon and Ygritte on the front.
I wonder what happened to that stuff on your wall, all the cards and the pictures. what about that binder that had letters in? and the Downton Abbey puzzle? do your nurses from the first hospital know you didn’t make it? is the one who had breast cancer doing okay? the one who talked to me on skype about Pickman line placement? those nurses adored you, you were there total favourite patient. I’m glad you moved hospitals and they didn’t have to watch you go.
I’m really mad at God right now. I know that’s some basic shit, like of course kid cancer makes you question your faith. of course the death of a brilliant individual with more drive and potential to have an amazing life than anybody I know would make me question a benevolent creator. but I still believe in God. I just don’t trust the bastard.