I'm not ready for this.

To park in that same parking lot and fumble around looking for loonies and twoonies that I know I brought along but can't find.

To cross the street under that neon sign and enter the same doorway that leads to my emptiness. Littered with cigarette butts - some of them probably still hers.

To walk down the desserted hallways without having to even look at the different colored painted arrows on the walls because I know the way. It's all too painfully familiar and fresh in my mind.

And back into a hospital room, to wonder if a person who is my entire world will ever come back out.

It's too soon.

I'm trying to muster up the courage but I'm failing, miserably.

I'm a bit of a wreck right now and the pictures that I just found in a box of one of our last Christmases together has just hit me hard.

If they put off the surgery again, I don't know that I can keep dragging myself to this place. Friday is the day, but they've told us "not to hold our breath". Well I am. And I have been for months now, long before this surgery was ever scheduled.

Appreciate people while they're here. Spend time with them, even if it sometimes seems like "a chore" or you have other, "more important" things to do.

Because one day it all changes and, when it does, it can never be again.

I've been around fairly infrequently lately and I can only guess that that will probably be the case for awhile. Who knows though - I'm so unstable...I may have to vent, cry, or just hear your friendly voices. Yes, when I'm here, I swear I can.

You've been great friends to me. And I sincerely thank you for that.

I'm sorry, but I'm just not a big bunch of fun right now. I'm trying to be, but I'm not great at faking it.

It'll be o.k.

And I hope when I do return, you're still here.

:)