Little Things Kill

I touch your mouth my will is food

Addicted to love I'm addicted to bull-shit
I kill you once I kill you again
We're starving and crude
Welcome my friends to

To the little things that kill

Tearing at my brains again
Oh the little things that kill-- Little Things, Bush

I moved Dad to the assisted living center last night.  It is not perfect, but given his situation, it is better than him being alone at home.  He has a small two-room apartment with a kitchenette that includes a microwave and mini-refrigerator.  Dad seems to go to the hospital on a weekly basis lately.  Here at least someone is watching him and there is help close.

I broke down again and sent a jab at Billy this morning.  "After all the shit I have done for you.  All the shit you put me through when I need you.  You are off playing puppy love in fantasy land."  I need to stop.  It is not doing me any good, and I am sure it is hurting her.  I want it to hurt her.  The way she hurt me.

I have had a short fuse lately.  Too much caffeine, I guess.  I feel like ripping the heads off of everyone.  Dad was discharged from his physical therapy rehab center yesterday.  He was at the hospital when they decided to call me and tell me they were going to have to pack up his stuff.  I asked them not to do that.  I told them he would be back shortly.  He was due to be released when the hour.  They went and did it anyway.

When Dad and my younger brother picked up his stuff.  He was missing a tablet, phone charges, hangers, and a few other items.  I am so surprised the minimum wage orderlies did not pack all his things.  I will be going over there at lunchtime to ream the person who called me out.

My dad's health will continue to decline.  It is a race to see what ailment will be his demise.   The cancer cannot be treated.  His heart is frail.  The other organs don't get the blood they need.  I am trying to keep him happy and give him some quality of life.  Why he has such a desire to live, I cannot fathom right now.  It must be something that comes with age.  I would not have it.  Perhaps you find a way to enjoy the little things when you get to his state.  Maybe I will find time to enjoy the little things.

"I am not in fantasy land.  Don't you think I thought about this?  The last few months I was with you, I was not happy.  It kills me that I cannot be there for you the way you need me.  The whole situation sucks.  I'm sorry, I will not contact you anymore."  she replies later.

They are the words I do not want to hear.  The words that bring me to tears in the middle of my office.  Why could not I make her happy?  I still cannot handle the rejection.  I still cannot face being alone.