Thursday, July 21, 2011

Paranoid Mess/ Crying over 311 tunes

So, my family went to see a musical tonight at the Kennedy Center in DC.  I didn't go with them.  I had a ticket, but just couldn't get myself there.  I have such a hard time when I am not able to motivate myself to do things with them.  I could never figure out why I felt so horrible about staying behind.  It's the worst feeling of anxiety.  It dawned on me tonight what this feeling is.  It is a feeling of dread.  I am terrified that if I am not there, that something awful will happen to them.  As if my mere presence is enough to keep them safe.  I can't shake this feeling.  I won't rest until they are home safe.  I couldn't possibly handle the worst my mind can project in these situations.  This is a huge problem.  I can not live like this.  I must find help.  And fast. 

I've been listening to a lot of 311 today.  I listened to "Uplifter" so much when TJ died.  I haven't listened to it in about 2 months.  I threw it on tonight and it took me right back to the day he died.  That night the only song that came to me was Never Ending Summer.  There is a chant at the beginning that goes "3 11, 3 3 11".  It gives me chills just thinking about it now.  After that night, other songs from Uplifter came to me.  It's Alright played in my mind... "Stay with me.  Here with me."  And then "Never Ending Summer" also has "So tell me, can this all be real?"  This pain.  This loss.  How can this be real?  How can he be gone?  Why can't he just stay with me.  Here with me.  Where I need him to be.  Where he needs to be.  He had so much more to do.  Now their new album is out.  We were both waiting for that so eagerly.  Following Pnut and Nick on Twitter.  Checking in on all the studio recording buzz from them.  Now it's here, and it's an amazing album.  And he's not here to hear it.  To feel it.  I want to see them when they come around here.  They're on tour now.  But the thought of attending a 311 show without TJ brings tears to my eyes.  It stings terribly.  I've never been to a show without him.  Years and years of seeing them once, sometimes twice a year.  And never again.  Never again will I feel him behind me, arms around my waist, hearing his voice singing in my ear as we belt out the songs together.  Watching him close his eyes, feeling the music.  Fist in the air, head bobbing.  Fuck.  Thinking about this is tearing me up right now.  This is royally fucked.  He needs to be here.  He needs to stay with me, here with me, forever.

Stealing Happy Hours is playing on my random playlist right now.  Fuck me.  I need more time.

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