The Dementor

Came home from LJ's baptism. Godchild#2. Actually, I had second thoughts about attending the ceremony. But I went anyway. I wanted to see the baby's tiny feet and tiny hands and tiny yawns. I wanted to welcome him into the Christian world. But the entire day was like a challenge for me. I had to pretend I'm ok. I had to act normal while I tried to get a grip of myself. I felt like someone punched my chest. Like my heart has been ripped out and stomped on. I was crying invisible tears. The silence was killing me. It's agony. Complete, excruciating agony. On our way home, Roxie told me, "Cut the cord pala ha." Well I guess I never did. Or maybe I did. But there's still a single strand left uncut. Refusing to let go. Shit. I need a sharper blade.

There's still much to blog about. But I'm too tired and sleepy. I better snooze. I can hear my bed crying my name out loud. What's important is that everything is crystal clear to me right now. Everything dawned on me like a blanket of truth. I'm gonna hit the sheets now. Hope I never wake up. Hell no, scratch that.

Some people can be like Harry Potter's dementor.
He is my dementor.
He is sucking the life out of me.