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Date: 2018-08-22 03:08 am (UTC)2. He was. I'm—I wouldn't say I'm holding up as such, but I have enough experience with the grieving process that I'm self-aware, if that makes sense? Which is to say I can at this point anticipate what's going to set me off, which is better than the last few days when I've burst out crying at the supermarket. It's going to all go to shit next week when I walk into the school and get my keys back and my keychain is this pink poo emoji that he gave me that always makes me laugh and always sets the kids at ease, and it'll all go to shit tomorrow when we have the wake. And I'm mainly wishing that the entire universe had a face and I could punch it, because there is fuck-all that anyone could have done and the only reason why he's dead is that sometimes amazing people are born with defective meatsacks, and there is no meaning to anything, so you might as well punch the universe. Except you can't.