So This is the Real World?

in order to achieve happiness, we do things that make us unhappy. we work mundane jobs to earn money, day in and day out, and if we ended up with our dream job, we sometimes learn to hate what we do. if we haven't found them yet, we wait for our one-and-only, sometimes suffering heartache after heartache and growing too bitter to truly appreciate our lover when we've found them. we grow old and cynical and watch everyone that we've known die off. this is what we live for? to flail around hopelessly until we've settled for a life we may not have hoped for? there is no helping what happens to anyone, is there?

a simple explanation to my current angst: grandpa rauscher's dead, evan's gone, i've got a job, i'm on my period.

i received a letter from evan today, but i can't write a response. i always intend to write something peppy and fun for him, but when i reread what i've written, it's like, "holy fuck, dani, what is wrong with you?" when i try to tell him anything, suddenly i sound depressed and horribly needy. i'm going to keep the letters i've decided not to send, and we'll see how big that stack gets.

i'm considering not sending any more at all. he doesn't receive my mail, anyway: for some reason, they're holding my letters from him. he gets letters from his mom, but not from me. i don't know why. maybe it's my bubbly address. the guys in charge over at basic take one look at my envelope and think, "pleasant plain road? THAT'S FOR PUSSY BOYS, WE DON'T NEED THIS SHIT HERE." that's what i'm going to assume is happening.

i'll be fine soon, i'm sure. i'm just having trouble coping because there is no one to talk to about this. i've tried talking to bethany and ashley, but they don't like when i do. they try to change the subject, and i understand completely. i'm terrible to talk to right now. i'm a mess. i dream about evan coming home and wake up snoggin' my pillow (obviously one of the more entertaining aspects of my emotional distress).

it's not just him, of course. rusty was at my grandpa's funeral, and he hugged me. the fuck kind of ex-dad wants a hug? of course, that's not the worst thing about the funeral. i felt horribly guilty about every way i had ever wronged grandpa, and grandma seemed so sincerely happy to see me... she's all alone at that big ole' farm now. she can't take care of all that land by herself. i know that older people sometimes just give up on life when their spouse dies, and i'm scared for grandma now. i'm scared for all my grandparents. any one of them could die at any second. my parents could die. anyone can die! life is full of uncertainties, and they're all hitting me hard.

i don't want to angst out on everyone, but i can't help it. the longer i go without letting it all out, the worse it gets. right? i guess i'll stay pretty bad until evan comes home in september. but he'll leave me for good in january, when he goes to college, and i'll have to experience this crippling loneliness all over again. fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck, guys.

fuck.