swept away by the wonder of it all. i never saw it coming. it left me dazed and i don't know where to turn. but i promise if you fall i'll catch you

i'm scared. shitless.

and though i applaud the affable approach to my blubberling mess of on-and-off-again tears as art or beauty, i regret to inform you that my goal was not to elicit that kind of response; however, i understand that in pure anguish lies the beauty of the human soul.

the fact still remains that i'm fucking terrified.

i'm terrified of the endless "what if"'s

i'm terrified that i won't have him to dance with at my wedding

i'm terrified of the possibility

i'm terrified he may be in pain and suffer

i'm terrified for her life without him

i'm terrified for a future without him

i'm terrified for his life.

i'm terrified we're not strong enough.

the list is never ending. i'm well aware that at the end of the day, nothing matters outside of the details and the course of action that needs to be taken. nothing matters more than the forged optimism i can conjure for the sake of my family and my sanity...

and yet?

it's haunting me. i just can't let myself forget it. i actually laid in bed and prayed.... *me*...praying

...and not the small talk that i normally engage in, where i simply talk to whatever diety may exist and ask him to help out those people in my life, and around the world, that are in need. not in the way i ask Him to help me be all that is expected of me and to make sure those people i love have enough....not in the way i asked G-d to help adam go through things in the least painful way possible...no...not even in the way i demanded that He watch over my mother and make sure she gets through her surgeries with no problem.

no.

i fucking pleaded. i begged. i offered myself as a sacrafice to just make the whole thing go away. i repeated, over and over again "please make it better G-d, please make it go away" until my own body smacked my thoughts into submission with the onset of a few hours hibernation from the inner turmoil.

and i've pleaded, i've begged, i've offered myself, and i've chanted those words repeatedly until sleep does me part every night for the past four nights.

and i've been here before--fearing for the life of a family member--but the dynamic of this situation takes it out of the realm i've known it to exist in. it's no longer me hoping that a doctor doesn't fuck up, or that my mom is strong enough to make it through--which i've never once doubted, because she is the strongest women i've ever witnessed--or that it's the last of the major surgergies she'll have to endure.

this is it's own animal. this is it's own monstrosity. this malignant spirit knocked down every familial and palatial white castle we harbored without even blinking an eye...and i'm totally helpless to it all..

and i know they try to be strong, they try to make it seem like it's all okay and that it's not a huge deal.... but her tears which echo in her inflection codify the abysmal panic that comes from being "one" with someone for thirty three years....his voice mirrors his own dread regarding it all, and the combination of the two is ripping the laceration the news left on my heart even wider.

i'm scared...

and i'm pissed.

i'm pissed at the fact that of the four people who know what's going on (quick thanks to the dude for everything), the one i expected to put some effort into saying something--anything--to just offer himself out as there, if i so needed, said abso-fuckin-lutely nothing. even in the face of me phrasing it as "if i seem moody, this is why," he just ignored it completely...and that is fucked up. especially since two people i told don't know me that well, and don't associate with me the way he does...and they were more than willing to offer themselves and their ears. (thank you murph and dave). it's even more fucked up because people who don't even know me, or what's going on, have lended their kind words, hope, wishes, and prayers....and he acted like i said abso-fuckin-lutely nothing more than "i'm bitchy 'cause i'm on my period."

i'm pissed because that's the way it goes. shitty times strike, and it becomes more than abudantly clear who really gives a shit about you, and who doesn't.

i'm pissed because i've witnessed what it is to be someones emotional rock--their calm admist all storms. my mom was that to her mother, my father is that to his father, my brother is that to both of them....i'm that to no one..and it pains me to know that in the face of family contretemps i can't offer anything more than a mute silence.

i'm pissed because i can't do a fucking thing. i know this, logically. i know it's completely out of my hands, that it is what it is..but...he's my daddy. how can i just tell the tears that are the mirror image of the blood flowing from a gash in my heart to just scab over and go away?

and yet sometimes you have to wade into the mess as deep as possible so that you can wade out of things that much more easily...

i know this. this is my delve into the deep end. this is the last time i'll let the salt leave a trail on my cheeks. this is the last time i'll show that malignant fucker my soft underbelly and the last time i'll let it win. this is the last time...this is it.

game fucking on.

why? because the basic support system is family. because family is built on the basic premise of protection that flows from the most unadulterated visage of love. because love is realizing that your roots are so entwined that it's inconceivable that you should ever forseeably part, and it's impossible to determine where your roots start and where their roots end.

and my roots are that entwined.