One day, the events of the past two days will be funny. A hilarious story to tell just about everyone, though highly embarrassing for my father. But today is not that day. Today I’m scared shitless and wishing more than anything I wasn’t here alone.
It started Saturday morning. I woke up and started my usual routine albeit the floor was a little wet. Not thinking I started cleaning it up and went about my daily business. I eventually made my way outside to work on my laptop while he slept. A while later I notice him walking around quite completely nude. He had apparently forgotten where the bathroom was.
Things only got worse from there. It was a feat to try to get him to even eat, let alone wake up long enough to take his medicine and talk to his wife. I eventually dosed him with lactaloce, thinking that would solve the problem because I was thinking of the high amonia levels again.
That was a mistake. Since 3 am I’ve been cleaning the house with clorox and lysol. Again, he forgot where the bathroom was. You can only imagine.
It’s times like these where I have very angry conversations with James. Of course they’re one sided; me bitching and ranting about how I’m here cleaning up his (James’) mess. Maybe if here were still around, I wouldn’t be so alone in all of this.
To make matters worse on the thinking about James front, I got news Saturday that one of dad’s friend’s son committed suicide in pretty much the same manner as James. He was only 16/17 (I’ve gotten conflicting reports on his age). So Saturday was a pity party day for me. It’s getting closer to the anniversary and Friday I’ll be another year older than James will ever be.
I feel bad, not for the family necessarily, but mainly for his older brother. Again, the conversation I had when I found out about this made my heart ache, not for the boy who died, but his brother. To my source, the older brother was the one they thought would have committed suicide. I know all too well the feeling of being around people who subconsciously think that it should have been you, not the other one. I know the guilt. I know the pain. And my heart breaks for this boy that I don’t even know.
One day the first part of this story will be hilarious. The second part will never be.
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