Scratching the surface of what I've lost....
Mood:  down
Topic: family

Jesus. It's just starting to occur to me that I may never be able to talk to my family ever again.

The thing is, my immediate family is really tight. I mean really tight. I talk to my parents every couple of days, and my brother every couple of weeks. When I call Michael (my brother), or he calls me, it's usually to catch up on the most recent doings, like whether he got his license to sell houses or how his wife's pregnancy is going. But it's also to just reconnect and re-realize that we're both adults and we love each other. When I call my parents, often it's for stupid shit -- movie trivia (can YOU name all of the Seven Dwarves?), gabbing about the newest technology we've got, or anything else that happens to be going on -- and that's the cool part. We don't reserve conversations for the life or death stuff, like some families. Even though we live(d) so far apart from each other, it's like we were still always there for each other.

Now, I'm millions of miles away and getting farther out each second. Millions. Not hundreds or thousands. That's incomprehensible to me. If you don't have a tight family, then you just won't understand. I'm not even sure what to do with myself.

I know that I didn't leave under the best of circumstances, and Dad was there for all of it. He saw me off. That goodbye had to be the most awkward of my life. But none of that seems to matter now. It's a hazy memory against the bright screaming flashes of happier times. It's smog.

I miss them. I can only hope that they're able to read this blog and perhaps respond to it. That's all we're gonna get. No more phone calls, and I won't be there for Christmas.

Oh god, John. No. I can't go there yet.