angry that such a brilliant and inspiring person was stolen from this world and from my life.
angry that I was happy and he was happy, WE were happy and it was abruptly brought to a terrible end.
angry that I have been in constant pain since then.
angry that I can’t shower without help, that I can’t play my guitar while I sing and scream out all these horrible feelings, angry that I can’t work, angry that I may never again have full use of my hand.
angry that I can’t even give real hugs.
angry that I will forever carry three giant scars to remind me.
most of the time I can be grateful for the time we had and for all he was and for all we shared.
but last night. today. I am angry.
that because two people had no respect for life, that because two people felt entitled and had an semi-automatic handgun and a meth addiction my life and the lives of my friends and his friends and his family have been forever changed in a horrifying, tragic, senseless way.
there is no suitable word to encompass this level of anger and grief.