More Tears

I hate being right about some people.

Yesterday, I was already saying that I was dreading what I would be told about the piece of news that broke my heart. And I was right. 

I was told, in order:

- It happens.

- That's life.

- You had to be expecting it.

- That's not your family, so don't be sad (read: you're not allowed to be sad).

Oh, I knew...

I knew that unless I blew a fuse and ended it all, that day would happen.

And why would I be sad?

In order:

- He's been the most important person in my life - for 3/4 of said life (and I don't remember much about life before him).

- One thing leading to another, if it weren't for him:

     * I wouldn't be the person I am today

     * I wouldn't be a teacher

     * I wouldn't be a writer

     * there are so many things that I'd never have discovered

I know there's nothing I can do.

I know I'm not a relative.

I am sad.

I am sadder than I've ever been.

It's not an act; it's a fact.

I can't decide if I'm dealing with people who have 'Stiff upper lip in all situations' imprinted in their DNA or if they enjoy adding to my sadness - and I don't care. I'd like a hug and a dose of empathy for a change.