This morning the phone rang at 6:30 and ignorantly I didn't think much of it apart from "who the fuck calls at this time?" It turned out to be my grandad calling to say my grandma was on the way to hospital. With a suspected stroke. Another one.
The sad thing that I've been through this all before but for some unknown reason I was affected way more than last time. I know I am strong. Well enough anyway. Yet through out the day I couldn't help my thoughts from straying, no matter how hard I tried to not let them. In class today I was close to crying and the sad thing is not because I was afraid that she may not make it so to speak but because I was afraid of going back to square one. I am tired of having to deal with ANYTHING.
Not knowing what was going on is agonising. Some say ignorance is bliss. It most definitely is not when you only know a part of what is going. The waiting...
It feels like there is always another awful event. No blissful calm, always another crisis, always another tear. No respite.
Any news even bad news is better than the temporary nothing.
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