Shattered Glass

I went into the office today. Saw some people I hadn't seen in a long time. Had some good conversations, but one stands apart from the rest.  Michelle and I haven't always seen eye-to-eye. Not sure why, but there's always been kind of an antagonistic vibe floating in the air when we're around each other. It could be that I'm imagining it, but I don't think so. Anyway, she was walking past my office late this afternoon and stopped when she saw me. We said hello and I asked her how her summer was and if she had gone anywhere. She told me about her children, one in college the other in high school, both seniors. She asked me how I am – ok – and how Dawn is. Up and down, I told her. It was at this point that I just went all in and told her how difficult it's been at times, struggling to make sense out of what had happened. How some days can still knock us – mostly Dawn at this point – for a loop. Sometimes we see it coming; other times not so much. I told her ho...

What is real? I don't recall asking myself this question before Damian died, but now that he's gone, I'm giving it a lot of thought. It usually comes on the heels of me thinking about Damian and then wondering if he was real. As in: Did he really exist? Of course, I know that Damian was real.  The pain that I experienced is evidence enough of this. I do believe, however, that my mind struggles with this because it can't process his sudden and irrevocable absence. It's hard to accept consciously. I can't begin to pretend to understand what it's doing to my subconscious. All I can see is the byproduct – my monkey brain asking weird questions and struggling to find the right answers... Yesterday I accepted an invitation to go sailing / racing at the end of October. I had the opportunity to crew in a race this coming weekend, but I couldn't bring myself to say yes. Saying ok to the end of October feels safe. Probably because with so many weeks between now an...

I'm having (or did have) a bit of rough afternoon. Dawn and I are in Wilmington (NC) visiting my aunt. Damian loved it here. My aunt Emily is a lot of fun to be around and there is a lot to do here, much of it revolving around the water.  Today, the 3 of us headed south to Fort Fisher and caught the ferry to Southport. On the ferry ride back (to Fort Fisher) I became keenly aware of the hole in my soul. Damian should be here with us. It's wrong that he's not. For the last few hours, I haven't said much. I just withdrew myself from the conversation. If I had my druthers, I'd probably take it one step further and hide in the bedroom, or, better yet, snap my fingers and teleport back to our house. It's my safe zone, which is ironic since this is where Damian chose (?) to take his own life.  Dawn and I were talking a few days ago about the stigma of suicide. I asked her if she thought people would treat us differently if Damian had been killed in an accident or died...