What a month, the last couple of weeks have been a big twisted ball of yarn.
I don’t even know where to start untwisting.
I feel like a willow tree, swaying in the wind.

Let’s start with 6-16-07

That would be the day of my first wedding anniversary.
That mornings Charles mom called, with bad news that his grandmother was unresponsive. Some dip shit doctor gave her morphine, which apparently you should not take with whatever condition she has. * note my husbands family is not the best of telling me about things.

My husband is outrage, ranting about how he’s going to burn the doctor’s house down. He tends to rant when he is angry, and spouts out some pretty random shit, that he would never act on in real life.
So we all think the worse that she’s taking her last breath, blah dee bloo da.
The good news is she is ok. They increase her dosage of oxygen that keeps us with us, take her off morphine, increase her dose of vikadoin, and she goes off to smoke a few days later
You can’t really argue with a 70 year old smoker-

So Charles is all freaked out on our anniversary. This whole day was supposed to be about our endless love. I love quotes like that because it makes me chuckle. I also think of bare chests on white ponies, taking me off to the sunset, to ravage me sweetly and tenderly.

I tell him to relax, it’s going to be ok. And we did have a great night. My mom somehow got us a super deal on this great hotel room. The nicest room I have ever said at in my life. (I really wish I knew how she got things so cheaply) it was out at Huston woods lodge. Over looking a lake. I love nature.
So we had dinner in O-town, the food was lack luster and pricey. Seriously if your going to take all the meat off the pasta, can’t you charge me a little less for it? But the rest of night was good and relaxing. I got to take a nature walk without lugging my 22 pound baby boy in the woods. We dipped our toes in the lake, held hands, looked at the stars. Drank a few drinks at the bar, and so on.

The funniest part of the night was…

When:

I left my window, 4 inches down in the back seat of the car. I also had a piece of our wedding cake. Umm stupid tradition to eat a piece of cake, that’s been freezing in a freezer for a year. So I forgot to take said piece of cake inside the hotel room. I didn’t think rolling up my windows in the middle of nowhere was a problem. You know I roll up my windows and lock my doors because of safety reasons, and I felt pretty safe. I didn’t remember that I was in the middle of the woods with furry little animals.
So when we were sleeping.
Raccoons hijacked my car, and decided to eat the cake in the backseat of the car.
So when we checked out of the hotel in the morning, there was cake crumbs everywhere. Little greasy paw prints on the window, little greasy tracks on the car. Scratches on the window.
Instead of getting mad at my own stupidity, I start laughing. I can’t get the mental pictures of raccoons barring their faces in cake, licking it off their paws, jumping around my car in a sugar high. I guess it’s a good thing I have always liked raccoons. Its also a good thing when we were looking out at a lake we saw a family of raccoons with their two little baby cubs and I am sucker for cute little furry animals.
And well there’s a lot of other things to worry about then getting some cake off the backseat with a vacuum.

So that night was the highlight of the week.

So Thursday morning when I come home for lunch, my husband was in tears. Red sirens blaring off in my head. He utters the sentence that ‘Bryon’s dead’, and I was like what? This can’t be, what, how, and what the fuck.
I have lots of words to say, but they don’t form complete sentences. I am angry at him, at myself for not doing more. But let’s face it, I didn’t know that he was addicted to heroin. Apparently he was hiding it, and hiding it well from people that were close to him.

People like how didn’t you know?
Apparently some idiot on a message board is quoting that all Bryon’s friends are junkie’s, and sit around and do drugs all day, and his friends did nothing to help them.

I personally am, *quoted from a message board)

' I am a junkie who smokes pot all day, doesn’t take care of my child, doesn’t work full time.'

my reply is:

I barely fucking drink, I don’t give a rats ass about pot because you cant overdose on it. And I don’t smoke it, so fuck off. I don’t care if you do, but don’t ever accuse me of shit- that really gets to me

Well I got pissed at that guy. (can you tell?)

I was not a friend who knew, if I knew how badly the damage was. i didnt know, and i hate the fact that i didnt know.

I would of talked to him.

But if you know addicts like I have, they only want help when they realize it’s a problem, and maybe not even then. They hide things well.

I did state my concern in the past about what I did know, to bryon personally.

i was shocked about his drug use, and I talked to his best friend about it, that he only found out two weeks ago, and Bryon wouldn’t listen.
So yeah I tend to get angry when people assume things about other people.

I don’t want to remember Bryon as what got him in the end, I want to remember him for the words he said, and the love he gave the world.
I don’t want him to be a fucking poster child of what not to do. He accomplished a whole hell of a lot, more then I have-

He loved the world a lot-

to a diffrent subject-

Anyhow we are moved into the new apartment, and I am ecstatic about our kitchen table. I just need chairs, finish unpacking our bedroom. Wash clothes and hang up my art work, and find some foaming decorations for the babies room. Then I am done, sorta, I then will have to clean everything-the cycle continues-

sorry if my words arent as beautiful as they usually are-