Too much thinking while too tired

[ashacrone]

I had a dream once, that I was dying. I was sick, or something. My family was there to bid me farewell, and everything was in a tone of acceptence, and I knew that I was going to shut my eyes and let it go. There was nothing to be done, and nothing could be done.
Darkness seemed to close in on me, and I realized something important. I didn't want to die. I didn't want to give up, and damned if I was going to let go like this. I wasn't going to do this with grace, I was going to fight and thrash as best I could. So I did, and I woke up.
I hate to cry and I have been doing enough of it this evening. For myself, of course. There are plenty of people I could cry for tonight. I probably should. What's happened at Virginia Tech is awful. I should be thinking of something meaningful... but instead I cry for myself and my own grudges.
I hate to cry. It leaves me exhausted with a headache and I'm tired enough already.
I need to ask a few people to forgive me. I wish some people would ask the same of me. I wish I could forgive others. Yet I forget so much easier than I forgive. I guess doing half of the equation ain't bad. I hope I'll get better in time.
Ah, well.