Long story short, her and my grandfather (Which had a stroke 9 or so years ago and can't move and has to be taken care of) lived in a little apartment addition we had on our house. She moved out because my parents are newly divorced and searching for new places. So, it's weird enough to look in that little room and it gets me teary eyed.
So, me and my dad were taking stuff to the dump in his truck. It was a lot of random stuff like old papers and notebooks of mine and my sibling's, and a little table that my grandma used to use. Well, sure enough like I expected since the table was on top, it fell off of the truck and along with it was a notebook full of papers. The table skid down the road and the papers went everywhere. I don't know what the papers were, but my dad got the table and notebook real quick and we continued down the road the remaining 100 yards to the dump (So close). Seeing the papers sit there on the road tore me up and I don't know why. Maybe it was something deeper like a sign that everything is changing. I wanted to jump out of the truck, pick up every piece of paper, and throw it back in the truck. Either way it would be picked up and thrown away, but I didn't want it to be thrown away by passing cars and people I don't know.
That one little event put a whole new perspective on this situation, and I don't like it a single bit. I can't change it, I know, but I don't have to like it. I've cried a few times since I got home for several reasons related to today, and a few reasons about the general happenings.
Venting helps, but I still don't feel like I can get out all of my thoughts to people that actually understand. No, I'm not the deepest soul in the world. No, I'm not in the greatest amount of pain. I don't think that I'm the most troubled and damned person ever. I know that other people have gone through this before, but I still need a little help dealing with it along the way, too.
So, no real replies or advice is expected. Just needed to get it out...
So, me and my dad were taking stuff to the dump in his truck. It was a lot of random stuff like old papers and notebooks of mine and my sibling's, and a little table that my grandma used to use. Well, sure enough like I expected since the table was on top, it fell off of the truck and along with it was a notebook full of papers. The table skid down the road and the papers went everywhere. I don't know what the papers were, but my dad got the table and notebook real quick and we continued down the road the remaining 100 yards to the dump (So close). Seeing the papers sit there on the road tore me up and I don't know why. Maybe it was something deeper like a sign that everything is changing. I wanted to jump out of the truck, pick up every piece of paper, and throw it back in the truck. Either way it would be picked up and thrown away, but I didn't want it to be thrown away by passing cars and people I don't know.
That one little event put a whole new perspective on this situation, and I don't like it a single bit. I can't change it, I know, but I don't have to like it. I've cried a few times since I got home for several reasons related to today, and a few reasons about the general happenings.
Venting helps, but I still don't feel like I can get out all of my thoughts to people that actually understand. No, I'm not the deepest soul in the world. No, I'm not in the greatest amount of pain. I don't think that I'm the most troubled and damned person ever. I know that other people have gone through this before, but I still need a little help dealing with it along the way, too.
So, no real replies or advice is expected. Just needed to get it out...
