Two Faced, cont’d

It’s been a while since I have felt so alone. Years, when I truly dig for the answers through my fading memory. It was just me, the music, and the calm of the night surrounding me. I wondered how I ever let myself get to a place like this. It’s dark, and lonely, and I’m unhappy. I was unhappy with the decisions that I had made in the last couple of days, it continued to eat away at me like I never knew it could, or had the power to do, and when I looked back, I couldn’t even believe what or why I said what I said. Reminding me about stuff was something that Ricardo had to do multiple times daily. Mid sentence I would forget what I had said or where I was going with conversations. Ricardo always told me that I must of had to remember recent things, but I cant. I couldn’t. And every time I explained how I didn’t remember, he would shrug me off as if I was a liar. When I looked back into our conversation that day, I felt ashamed, and stupid for everything I said that led to everything, my whole world, falling apart..

I walked into work in January earlier this year when a coworker/horoscope reader let me know that it was going to be a bad year for us..
me: “For Pier 1?”

co,: “No for US, you’re a Taurus too right?”

me: “Duh!”:smiley face: What do you mean Bad Year?

I remember writing a little about that day here. < 

Would you believe that I had my hemorrhagic stroke later on that month.

In my birth month of April, Ricardo and I faced the Lymphoma scare, and those same lymph nodes are still swollen. Waiting for the day they are given another opportunity to scare a new doctor, and cause this distress all over again.

Speech Therapy was a complete let down for me in July,

The string of ER visits would start back up in August, making each one a little worse, and a little more nerve wracking than the previous visit,

And in September came the diagnosis of Neuropathy, and that explain a lot of the sensations I feel on a day to day basis.

By this time, I had decided to look up to watch my clock hit 12:30am. Time flies when you’re scrolling through months on months of old text messages from the love of your life, that you just lost a week earlier from your very own dumbass decisions. Again.

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