Well, Yes, That Makes Sense

Some people understand themselves. Not me. I have to think about shit a long time to make sense of it. And as long as it doesn't make sense, I feel anxious. I've been on the verge of tears the whole weekend. Well, duh. I don't live here. I don't have a chance to get used to the fact that we've got no reason to turn down Christy Road, even though Uncle B.'s house is almost visible from Capitol. There's no need to look for the church on the corner of Bradley; the grandparents are dead. For the folks who live here, they obviously have had time and reason to get used to this. For me, I've been doing "acceptance" for a long time like a total cheater because I never saw these folks in this place but twice a year anyway. Intellectually, I've long ago gotten used to the fact that I wasn't going to see them again. I just hadn't confronted the fact that even life here would go on without them and their loss would just become a fact instead of an affront.