My closet is the best hiding spot for tears.

It is true that most of life's problems can be subdued in the light of eternity. Small toils and snares compared to what we are living towards.

Today I learned that this has its drawbacks. Sometimes I just want to tell people, "Shut up. My brother just died." I remember the Sunday a week after Andy's death. Nathan and I had been planning a trip to Warped Tour, tickets and all. There was no point in not going, it wouldn't help anything, so we headed there. We listened to the "Weirsman and Beichfunkel" CDs on the way up and back. Nathan was stronger than I was at being able to handle it. I guess we mourn in different ways. We got to Warped Tour and did not have tickets because they had been left in Marshall after the funeral. Most of the admissions workers did not listen to us and gave us the eye of judgment. One man let us in, whether he believed the "sob-story" or not is your call. We got in and people would try to tell us stuff or drunk people would come up to us with funny jokes. Normally we would be lighthearted with the best of them. On this particular Sunday, we just wanted to be left alone. Nathan said we should make shirts, "Our best friend just died. We don't want to small talk." Sometimes you just want people to leave you alone. (I guess it has since been a reminder to treat others as if they need more love than ever on any particular day. We just never know what people are carrying).

Tonight in the library, I felt so dejected that I started to get physically sick. I don't need your snippy comments, I have enough crap of my own. Jerks. (You never know how much of an effect what you say will have far into the future...). I needed to get out of there and into the fresh air and sit down. After a lot of slow breaths and meditations of "You are so good to me," I am finally calmed in spirits. It's weird how the pains of your heart can affect you so--even on the outside.