Buckle Up its Gonna Suck in Phoenix Rises Again

It’s hard to sleep when you know your baby’s body might be on display in a tube of formaldehyde like some kind of sick art exhibit. How exactly do I explain that kind of pain to anyone? I’m just trying to play it kewl and hoping my son doesn’t find out. He has enough to deal with. What’s killing me is that I knew all along. I knew those weren’t Yuki’s ashes. They weighed too much and looked like sand. But I did nothing. I didn’t want my suspicions confirmed. What kind of compensation can a grieving mother accept in such a case? Sure, money would be nice now, but it won’t really help. The bastard being punished is good, but it doesn’t really help. I’m always gonna wonder what happened to him now. It’s possible they will find his DNA in one of the bodies they found at the funeral home, but unlikely. Unless he was preserved he will have rotted away by now. And if he was preserved.... what were they doing with him? Has he already been sold on the dark web to some twisted collector. He could be sitting on someone’s shelf. I may never know. What I do know is what I knew all along. Those aren’t his ashes.

I’m failing microbio. Can’t find a job that I have the motivation to keep. Barely holding things together. Might adopt my autistic friend who came to help. And… I need to figure out how to dump my girlfriend. No reason really. I just don’t see us going anywhere. I’m just not feeling it. But I don’t want to hurt her. Don’t want her to leave my life forever. So what do I do? I’m just sitting on it for now.

It’s all too much.

My therapist left. My son’s therapist wants him to seek more specialized care. So I have to deal with that too. Find a new therapist, find my son one. Find a job. Talk to the FBI and the police department and the news.

I just find myself wished for the hundredth time that life would just stop for a while. Let me deal with this. At least I’m not bored I guess. Always have something to stress about.

I dont…
I just cant....
And I miss you Jay. Just want to see you and hear your voice, maybe get a big old Jay hug. Not the side hug shit, the big long hug. A friend comforting another friend hug. But that isn’t going to happen. And it’s not fair that your wife hates me. I didn’t do anything to her. I don’t know what you two are going through right now, but it’s clear that I need to sit it out and stay away until it’s resolved or I’ll be the punching bag in the middle. The whipping boy. I didn’t sign up for that shit. I got enough of it from my parents. I won’t take it from her.

But I wish I could talk to you.
Miss you.

Wish me luck in Microbio. I’m gonna need it.