Any day could be his last, like this. That means any one of my own days could be that day. 

Maybe I wouldn't be so touchy about that if there hadn't been so many funerals recently 😪

Today would definitely not be that day tho because I talked to him today and he was getting care again and he sounded very happy and even wiggled his nose. 

But he also sounded completely cogent, which means he was already drinking. (That's his own special mindfuck jujujitsu, related to his being able to talk the panties off a nun or sell stripes to a zebra, but the dark not playful side of his being able to shapeshift.) And he said he had difficult phone calls to make and then it became the wife hours of between when school lets out and the kids go to bed. Any of those hours could be not good hours. And he doesn't get that treatment till tomorrow, and now why would he even be trying to control it knowing he's gonna have to control it tomorrow (?)

So I text, don't kill yourself with that last bottle, and he doesn't text me back for a while, then a while longer, hours, probably just means he's talking to his mother nbd 

But you see how there is a potential here that I could have been doing something completely inane on that day. I got a facial, and treated myself to the nicole kidman light. I dropped $1k on tickets to the country festival and skincare, nothing anybody needed, not even me. If he becomes a ghost on the day I was doing that, I'll wake up to that really hard gut punch every single day forever. And I'd never be able to moisturize. 

Looking out the window, I saw a man shoveling the sidewalk by my house with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth and a pickup truck and I think, thank god he's just here til that drug starts, then I think omfg is that a ghost? Elated relief followed quickly by terror.

(Who was that guy??)

My heart just lives in my throat. He's fine. Well, alive enough to text finally. It's not his fault it lives there, but my heart lives in my throat so that's where I feel everything. Actually physically feel it squeeze like breathtaking thru a straw.

"skincare"

I need to think more about what all this means about me. 

It really bothers me that I can't remember what I said last to my dad. I am sure I said I love you, but I think the very last thing was "I'll be back". I was too sick, too skinny, my gi tract on angry fire, and I had to move by myself - I just failed. 

I remember the last thing I said to Nebraska. Nothing.

And now this. All I want to do is talk talk to him nose to nose. Debreed every wound. Displaced selfcare applied long overdue and to another person - could that be a thing?