Reading through various entries today I was reminded of Morgan's line, Everything is the same yet nothing is the same. The first time I read that it hit me. Reading it again, I can't think of an oxymoron more true in this fucking hell. There is just no fucking point to any day. No meaning. No reason when everything can be taken away in the blink of a fucking eye. I am still so mad that this is my damn life. I feel so robbed. I didn't get time. I didn't get to come home to Gary crafting up his art in the kitchen. To give him a hello kiss. To sit on the couch with him on a lazy day, watching a mutually favorite TV show and whisper in his ear during a commercial that I loved him. Simple things like this, I didn't get. Those times were almost here. So many somedays, all our somedays, obliterated to hell.

Depression has been sinking in over the course of the last month or so and now it seems coming is boredom. Some things that would normally get my interest, there is just no spark. No life. No purpose. It just doesn't matter anymore. Nothing does except how bitterly mad I am at life for giving me this shitty hand I don't deserve. Yes, I was expecting Gary to die before me but not now, not when we both had so much life yet to live. And now, he's gone and I'm dead. Dead like a walking skeleton, a ghost apparition. There is no fix. No repair. There are not even the pieces left to put back together. To say it was his time is horseshit. NO it was not. How could it be? God dammit! He was so full of unexpressed artistry, passion, so many things he wanted yet to have and do for him, with us. 

I don't know what to do. I have been saying this for 7 1/2 months now. One day at a time doesn't work. Nothing changes. I still wake up with my heart shredded not understanding how I am alive and now asking why he had to go leaving me here in this nightmare. I logically understand death is a part of life, look at nature. But this is not death as this is something I cannot understand. Coherent one second; collapsed and passed out the next never to wake up. Yes, we had a love that was true and deep, especially with the details of our relationship, and I have that to carry with me. But that's not enough. 

I am getting tired of crying while another pile of snot-rags accumulate next to my computer. I still have the pile from last night sitting across the room. Either the day his ashes were buried or the day before a small plant of mine keeled over as two days prior it was fine. That was September 13th. The plant still sits on my table. It seems too fitting for the grueling, drudgery existence that has been unaskingly forced on me. I don't give a shit to be strong. I just want my life back, my life that was all planned out, finally to get somewhere, finally to have someone to share it with. Someone who was my perfect compliment and companion.

I hate my life. I hate the universe for giving this to me. I hate that so many people do not understand. I hate that the fucking world, everything, and everyone in it continues on like nothing happened. My life still stands frozen, paralyzed. I just can't make sense of this - mentally, emotionally, tangibly - and yet the world doesn't give a rat's fucking ass. It mercilessly continues on beating me to a pulp. How is this possible? How is this degree of human pain even human??

My life is a mess, I feel like such a mess, and this is just skimming the surface. Life is a JOKE.

My cat is truly the only meaning in my life.