Seattle

I'm glad to be here in Seattle. I want to be here for Scott's graduation, and it's so good to see him. It's good to see who he's become. I've loved him, always, always... but I knew him best as a joyful and lovely baby and toddler. I'm so happy to fill in just a few of the blanks, and I'm just so happy for him.

Being here is also hard. I'm in this hotel room crying, crying... crying because my chest hurts, because I'm scared.... crying because all day long -- in a day full of happiness for Scott, and chit chat and social stuff and 'oh it's so nice to see you again'...all day long people kept talking about their lives in a way that made my heart ache.

All day people talked about when they can retire. They're already older than I'll ever be, and they talk about the future. In six years, in seven years... where they're going to live, what they're going to do. Or what it would take for them to go back to college. Or what life will be like when their kids graduate from college...

They talked and talked and talked about the future, and they had no idea they were doing it, and it was so specific... in six years... in seven years... in twenty years. I wanted to start saying, "I'm going to be dead then." I wanted to say to them, "please stop. I can't take it. You don't know how my heart aches... you don't know how cheated I feel."

Again I had the feeling (even though I know it's not true) that everyone else gets to live forever. Everyone else has a treasure of days, and I have a few coins jangling in my pocket.

And I hear, 'you're so strong." Strong. "I like the way you look at things", because I say some positive thing... because I say something philosophical.

What the hell am I supposed to say?

What the hell am I supposed to do? Should I tear my clothes and pour dust on my head? Should I wail and throw myself on the ground?

Do people have to hear sirens to know that this hurts?

I look at Eric. I look at us. I see us limping along. We spend so much time being scared and sick about the future. Who would want to live with us here in the sad and uncertain present? No one. They'd be fucking crazy to live here with us. So it's just us, and here we are, and Eric would follow me to the ends of the earth, but I never, ever wanted to take him here.

And I have absolutely nothing to add to a conversation about whether it's better to pay off your house or fund a 401K.

And I don't want everyone else to stop living because I'm dying.... but it was a hard day.

Maybe tomorrow will be better.

I'll post pictures, and I won't be as tired, and things may well be better tomorrow.