heavy heart

Today bits of bad news came to me in staccato-ed sentences and hushed whispers. The death of a stranger; a friend to someone else, the rancid decay of a friendship. It made me think about how we fumble through words and long pauses, thinking of how to make ourselves feel better over something that can't get better. I don't deal with bad news well. It's not something you can rehearse, you can't control the air stuck in the back of your throat, you can't control the look that escapes from your face and evaporates as quickly and silently as it came, betraying you of whatever false bravado you tried to put up. So we do what we know, we pretend to smile, we act like everything's normal and push everything aside. It works for a while, the distraction helps you forget, time helps you forget.

But it doesn't really go away does it? The year is ending and it's supposed to be a time for letting go and starting anew but just watch how I'll drag every hurt over to 2014 with me. I used to believe in all that new year, new me bullshit. What happened.