Forget

Yesterday, I took the best nap. 2 hours of deep sleep late in the afternoon. Unfortunately, it was a mistake, as almost all late afternoon naps are. The inevitable happened when I went to bed for the night, as I tossed and turned with my mind going a mile a minute, it was clear, sleep wasn’t going to happen again soon. So I got up and went to watch TV. I had wanted to watch Private Practice anyway and my husband deplores the show so it seemed like a good time to watch it. 

Boy was I wrong. First off, let me breakdown Private Practice for you. Hot doctors run a private medical practice in which they almost always cause more harm than good. Such as voicing their opinions to patients, writing books about them, having sex with them, kidnapping them. Whatever, don’t judge me for my nighttime soap addiction. It is ENTERTAINMENT. Except with this series, it is ALWAYS tragic. Like, I cry every single episode; which is why Eddie has banned it in the house. He says it is pointless depression. He is probably right. Well, last night’s episode was expected to be a doozy. One of the doctors, a neurosurgeon, fell off the wagon and was going south fast. I should have known better. The show ended with her sticking a fucking needle in her arm. 

Why, why, why do I do this to myself? Jeremy was already on my mind. My cousin sent me some great pics of us as kids playing at Grandmother’s house and this one in particular has Jeremy with this wonderful giant cheese grin.  I forgot that Jeremy was a goofball, forgot that he could smile like that. Forgot, forgot, forgot. 

So I went to bed, and tried to forget, forget, forget the image of that woman shooting up, tried to not put Jeremy’s face in her place. I don’t know which hurts more - Jeremy as a dead junkie or knowing that he was once a silly, smart, goofy kid once. Forget, forget, forget…….