One more day. That's all I have left with my little sister. Of course, she's moving - not dying or something - I will see her again but it won't be the same. I know it's time for her to go but it's not time for me. I am very excited and happy for her but I am sad for me. Is that okay? Is that selfish? I want to tell her. I want to tell her all of the things that I have tried to tell her so many, many times but could never express out loud or on paper.
I would get so emotional, so upset, so unable to deal with that and I would stop. She said today that she didn't want to think about leaving, didn't want to deal with it but I said do; cry and laugh and experience it. These people were important in her life, this time was a very important stage of growth - mourn it, recognize it, acknowledge it and move on. Repressing this shit has no positive side effect! Obviously.
One of Debra's friends posted a bunch of pics online today of the going away party. Criminy, I am fat! (206 last recorded weight, probably put on a few since then - also, I want to note that in my '87 journal I said that I was 170 when I was 15.) Anyway, my first reaction to the pictures was how fat I looked; the second thing I noticed was I am smiling and obviously having a good time in every single one of them. So one really has little to do with the other when no boys are involved. Perhaps I will take a moritorium from relationships (thanks, Alanis!) and just get this shit done. I know I can maintain, I need to fat camp myself and just get it done... well under way, if nothing else.
I have to go to sleep now... I am hurting... too much booze, not enough food... also not helpful! Kisses!
