Farewell My Best Friend

I'm afraid this moment has been coming a long time. I've known she was ill. Hadn't thought she would live this long.
But still. I'm blindsided.
She's gone. That word never is such a terrible word.
I have always known her. Always. And now I will never see her again.
She is my sister. She was so beautiful. So regal and proud. Yet dainty. A velvet exterior over a steel core.
She always knew when I needed her.
I hope she is at peace. I hope she is running free, strong like she was years ago. Her fur thick and shiny, commanding her peers with a disdainful glance.
I hope she forgets being deaf and old, being tired and confused. I hope she is at peace.
Goodbye Taffy. I love you.

Too late

There's always been a peace for me, in the too late.
When there's nothing that can be done to undo something. There's nothing left that can be done to prepare for what's ahead.
I'm not sure I should call it peace. I suppose it's the opposite; turmoil so deep, fear so strong that part of me just shuts down. Like it's just passed out and all that's left is the practical one-foot-in-front-of-the-other part of me.
I'm never anxious at exams. I sit there, entertained by it all. Feeling pity for the nervous wrecks around me. It's always so strange to me to see people worrying about their test while they are taking it. But then again, they probably worried about it beforehand.
At the most I'll mentally slap the old me, the one of weeks ago that didn't prepare that extra bit.
But then again there's no point in that either so I start peoplewatching.
No purpose really. There's just nothing else to do. That's why I switched my major to Psychology. All you really do is watch people.
A defense mechanism I suppose. Pay attention to everything but you. Pay attention to anything but the failure that may lay ahead.

I don't know if I can believe it this time. I don't know what my future holds. I don't want to keep failing. Mostly I just don't want to get sent to Iraq as a truck driver. I don't want to have to quit school. If I fail, I just want to go free. Not that I want to fail. Not anymore. I don't want to just wimp out. Not that failing means I didn't try this time. But I don't want to just run away this time.
But hey, that's what happens when you suffer from severe depression for more than a year and have only had a month and a half of treatment.
Can't always shoulder through it all.
Damn it all.
This place is so lonely.