melvina

i.am.taking.the.first.drawl. of. the.first.cigarette. of. the.morning.

the first hit and sniff and... just enough to get me to work where i know i'll be interviewed for some thing i didn't do and sent home for it too. without pay.

at this moment. i am not caring. barely at all. except for the part where i am accused of things i haven't done.

i hate that.

it pisses me off.

if i did some thing. I'D TELL THEM.

i'm brutal and honest like that.

(mostly.)

but. on a lighter note, or not.

i dreamed yesterday morning at 7:23AM.

i walked out of my bedroom from just waking up. i saw the bathroom door ajar and knew that was not right. because. i always close. ALL. the doors.

and so i step into the living room. felt creepy. paranoid. looked to jules' room and. the door was ajar.

i stood confused.

and she came out of that door that.was.ajar.

in a pink and white gown with her blonde hair mussed and her make-up smeared and faded. she came out with her brilliant smile and her arms held wide for me.

and i stood. and thought. this isn't real. i am dreaming. she is gone.

but then... but then, she took me and i felt her and i smelt her skin and her sleep and her hair. and died. died and would have gone with her.

had i not woken up.

so i got out of bed. and walked into the living room. and no doors were ajar. i had believed. i had believed for those few minutes she held me and i held her again that i am dreamed the car accident, the funeral and the day they put her in the ground.

there are dreams and there are dreams. the real sort. and when i woke yesterday morning and stood with slumped shoulders in the living room, alone. i knew any way that she had been there because i could smell her. faintly.

faintly.

i am a bit more than just a little depressed about this. but you know. not everyone can have that death-free life, that picture perfect color-filled life.

i know that now. i knew it the night she left me. but i have a hard time with the acceptance phase of grief. i stick to hate and anger. i cling to them like i clung to her. it keeps me alive.

beck is coming, though. and that means. i will smile. real ones. and we will visit her. and drink with her. and roll around on the ground. and dance upon her. a waltz. because we always did the waltz well together, jules and i. we danced with beck too, back then. then, when we were the three, the graces.

i loathe change. there is no balance is two. but beck and i. we manage with our mania and our nasty grins. cause even though our glue is gone, we, at least- know. that she is out there. in here. walking us to work down the street and singing along in the car, if you listen close enough.