This is my only outlet for this, so I guess I should just come right out and say if you're reading this, you're going to hear every detail, every minutia, every bit of information that is stuck inside me about it that I'm not sharing with anyone in the real world.
My mom might hear some of it, because she's had cancer and has some feelings about it. But other than that, this is where the bulk of my emotions are going to be released.
I'm not crying - I'm strangely un-emotional actually. I don't know if it's just denial or some kind of coping mechanism, but I just can't feel it. It doesn't seem real.
He is so blunt with this, maybe that's why I can't feel it, I'm more used to speaking without words, emotion through energy not syllables. He just keeps saying she's going to be dead before the end of the year or she's not going to be alive to see us get married. The words are like daggers, but they don't cut into me because I just can't feel them. They just hit me over the head, and I'm looking at the word and thinking about the word and dead just doesn't make sense. I don't know what that means. If it's just a word, then everything is fine. But as much as I hear it and see it, it's not just a word, it's not a noun, it's a goddamn adjective.
Anyway, she was smoking when we went to VT to visit Labor Day weekend. She didn't do it in front of us, but to a pair of former smoker's, we smelled her cigs hours after she had lit up. G was pissed. He tore her a new asshole at dinner that night. G spoke with some doctors at the hospital that gave her a pet scan last week. It's spread into both lungs, the spine and sacrum. She was complaining that her back was sore during the whole visit. There's a tumor pressing against her spine, causing all that pain.
Cancer is a big fat jerk.