(no subject)

Todd didn't have a will, despite having lung cancer. I woke up thinking Andrea, his late wife, had emailled me at some point about one. So I woke up with a start at 2am and started looking through my emails. Normally, my dreams don't steer me wrong. Sadly, this time it did. I couldn't find anything. I may reach out to Todd's sister saying that if she'd like me to search his computers, I'd be happy to see if there is anything. I don't know how technically inclined she is or isn't. I know she is older, which defaults me to thinking she might not be too savvy, but Todd was an old tech guy and he was more than proficient.

I can't get my mind off shit tonight. Its just all haunting me really badly. I miss Todd. Wrong or right, him being my dad's old best friend had me projecting a lot of Dad Feels onto him. So its really sad that this is happening, and I'm sad I didn't hear anything till, what, a few weeks later? I'm too afraid to look through our texts and see when I last told him I love him. Why didn't anyone tell me when I checked in with him when the winter storm started? I know I've been taking the pandemic seriously, but now I really regret not seeing him. If I had known he was going to die anyway, i would have at least liked to have enjoyed some time with him, even if it was just watching baseball on TV and having some beers.

The idea that there is some kind of afterlife where my dad and Todd could see each other feels hallow, but nice, but I still don't believe it. This is where atheism gets an F- from me. Still, I can't get myself to believe this idea that I just know to not be true.

Todd really helped me reconcile who my dad was, and who he wasn't. I was 15 when he died and I just didn't know my dad. Not really, anyway. I had a lot of ideas about what other people thought he was. I'm glad to have a more robust picture, and was even able to come to (better) terms with my dad's opioid abuse/overdose. Or at least accept it. That sort of shit is something i could never repay.



And I still have this winter storm trauma. Sometimes, if I lay in bed and I feel cold, I instantly think to how cold we all were before we left. How scared I was. Sometimes my brain tries to gaslight me and tell me it couldn't have been that bad, or that I'm making up the ice and frost inside the house, or seeing my own breath in my house. I know I didn't make it up. It really was scary. The ironic thing is now, the heat is off, but only because it's been so warm lately (mid 70s). My brain has been either reminding me of the trauma or telling me i made it up. I wish my brain would stop being so mean to me.

I'm like so close to having a fucking breakdown. I'm just trying to hold myself together. Maybe having Biggie and Pepper will be a welcome distraction. Each night knowing they are at the shelter just breaks my fucking heart. I hope that they contact me today. Please, today.

What are you reading Wednesday?

What have you finished reading?

Nothing.

What are you currently reading?

The Secret Commonwealth by Philip Pullman - I missed last week, but it was more of this anyway. This book has mostly been about people who have been separated from their daemons. That's been the fascinating part. There's also a B-plot with Malcolm and finding out why roses have become blasphemous. It takes up a lot of time, and hasn't paid off yet, and there's only 100 pages left.

also, it took 300 pages for this book to get good. thats awful lol.