So, one of my coworkers is leaving. It's one I like a lot (she gives me rides to work, and we have a certain obsessive hobby in common), which is a bummer.

To be honest, I think I'm kind of jealous of the girl. She's the sort who saved it for marriage because she knew she'd have a husband someday, married the college sweetheart right outta college, has a lovely family and their parents are all friends. And now she gets to move back home, where she'll be 20 minutes away from her beloved family. (Note that for once I don't say or spell that phrase with dripping bitter sarcasm.)

In short, she has a lovely perfect life. She actually WANTS to be close to her family and is happy about it. She got true love at an early age and at just the right time. Hell, she grew up knowing she'd get married someday.

Whereas I am a bitter ol' bitch at the age of 27, one of the two chicks under 30 here that isn't happily married, knew from an early age there wasn't a husband out there waiting for me, and I don't even want to be around my parents.

I wish I knew what it was like to find love early on and have it work and last, and have a family I actually wanted to be around. I wish I knew what it was like to be happy like that.

But clearly, I did something shitty in a past life and am paying for it in this one.

I mostly had a lovely day yesterday. Had a good time at the CC, came up with some new craft ideas, went and saw my shrink, found out support group starts up for sure again in mid-August and I'm in it.

Then, as all my days end, I had to call to see how badly Dad was doing today. This going-to-the-hospital-every-other-day thing is not good. Naturally, he continues to do worse (today's disaster: chest X-ray).

I got told that I really should come home soon.

No, I don't actually think he's DYING-dying Right Now. The doctors haven't said anything like that. I think she's freaking out over going to Walnut Creek every other goddamned day. But I do suspect I might as well cancel my vacation plans right now, because if I leave NorCal, at the very least he'll probably have a pseudo-death's-door moment the second I arrive.

(And boy, am I tired of hearing about everyone at work's wonderful vacations right now. If anyone asks me where I'm going, I may just cry right there, because I don't want to have to bring everyone down by explaining why I shouldn't take vacations any more.)

She's admitted he looks really sick/bad/horrible right now. It's obvious hearing their conversations on speakerphone that things are bad.

Here's how evil I am: I don't want to see him.

I am tired of seeing him get worse. I am tired of not being able to remember what he looked like before more than vaguely. I am tired of having new and worse images of him burned into my brain.

I just don't want to be there and see it get worse any more.

It's not like we're going to have a farewell conversation before he goes. We can't. All I ever have to say to him any more is "I love you," "I'm sorry," and "I don't understand what you're saying." Repeat ad infinitum whenever I'm there.

I don't want to see him any more. It makes me sick. I don't want to. I don't want to see him get worse. I don't want it in my head forever.

And yet, I'm a total colossal asshole if I don't. If I deny him the sight of his precious precious only child before he goes. I'd hate anyone else who did that, right? Right? Wouldn't you?

I haven't decided which weekend to sacrifice yet, this one or the next one. Mom will probably kill me when she finds out I've got 3 weekends in a row of CC classes in August and can't come home. (Note to self: don't bother signing up for weekend classes at the CC next quarter.)

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