There was a lot of procrastinating happening, per the usual, when I went about writing this post. For one, the funny story I want to tell I can't because the internet has ears everywhere, so sadly you won't get to hear the tale of a person who once sent me an email calling me a bossy bitch. For two, I am a bit boring when it comes to nemesises (nemesi?) and tend to vehemently dislike the universe at large rather than pinpoint particular idiotic people. Unless you're sending me immature, caustic, name-calling emails (and regularly trying to trick my friends into kissing you) (really, I shouldn't be talking about this), I'm going to ignore you and pretend you don't exist. After all the opposite of love isn't hate, it's apathy.
But I'm an angry person, and the injustices of this world regularly rile me up. When rational argument does nothing and I sit there in despair, tears streaming down my face. I'm a fixer. I want to fix the situation. Now. Quickly. As though it never even happened.
But I'm not a doctor, I'm not a scientist, I'm not God. There is nothing I can do to take away this pain.
And there it is, my nemesis. My inability to help you, to change you, to change these circumstances.
My inability to make the cancer go away.
Fucking bullshit cancer.
Scott's wife, Susan, has cancer and I am so, so angry. It's not fair. I can't help them. And to imagine the fear, the suffocating fear they must be strapped with... the world is simply not enough.
All I can do is wait. Wait with them. And I can talk about it, impossibly willing my words to mean something. And I can pray because I'm into that.
And that's it. I'm out. (And I'm still angry.)
So, please, wonderful readers, do whatever it is that you do to help, to change, to wait, to pray.