Yesterday I hung out with Julie and then went to a party. But then they started playing this card game and after I got out (wasn't too upset, I don't like card games, I just played to be nice), I was getting bored while they played so I left.

Today, I went to my friend Emily's house. We watched the Lion King. That movie kinda made me think of my grandmama and Mr. Arthur and how I want them back

It's weird, because I've lost other loved ones, but their deaths hit me the hardest. It's been two years since I lost grandmama and one and a half since I lost the Old Guy, but for some reason the wound's still kinda fresh. It feels like it's only been about four months at most. I feel bad for wallowing in two-year-old sadness, but I don't know if I'll ever heal.

My biggest fear is that I'll lose someone else that I love. At the party yesterday, they were praying, and someone prayed for our family because we don't know how long they'll be here, and I actually cried because I'm just so terrified. I'm scared that I'll come home and one of my pets will be dead or that my grandma (my last living biological grandparent) or one of my parents will be dead. I had a dream one time that my mom had been missing and a police officer and my dad came into my room and told me they'd found her body. That dream's probably gonna haunt me for the rest of my life. And my pets... I don't know what I'd do without them. My dog almost died one time because he ate some D-Con. If we hadn't gotten him to the vet's right before closing time, he wouldn't be here today. And I was absolutely bawling when I watched and when I read Marley and Me. I went around hugging all my pets. And I remember when Michael Jackson died, not only being sad because he was dead, but you know, he was someone's parent. That could have been my parent that died, or one of my friend's parents, or one of my aunts or uncles.

But, you know, they're only gone physically. I know everyone I've lost is still watching me up in heaven. I just wish they were with me. I always hated hearing the Old Guy's stories about the Major League baseball player he taught in high school, but now I'd almost love to hear that story a thousand times if it meant having him back. And I'd love to eat my grandmama's corn bread and pinto beans, and stand in her apartment, and hear her Southern accent, and watch her "If You Knew Susie Like I Knew Susie" routine. If she had never died and I'd seen it, I'd probably think it was pretty dorky now. But I'd love to see it. I have these pieces of fabric from the fabric from a turban she'd given me. It's all over the place but I'll never get rid of them because they're some of the few things I still have of her.

This is a really sad journal, huh?