I’m up and down.

What really gets me? When I walk by one of my computers and a picture of Diego is on the screensaver, I lose it. I used to smile when I saw him. Maybe I still do, but I also think, “Why?” or “It’s not fair.” or “I’ll never get to see him again.” or something similar.

It’s not fair. Jack is the best father in the world; better than my dad, better than my husband, better than anyone! Then I think about my nephew, Sean. He’s a crappy dad. He can barely hold down a job. He is or was a drug addict. It makes me angry. Not that I think Anthony should be dead instead of Diego. Well, maybe I do, but that would kill my sister. I don’t know what I think.

It’s not fair. Losing a child is horrendous.

I’m angry. I’m concerned that I will take it out on DH. He’s been great, but the strain is beginning to tell on him.

The thing is that my anger has no target.

I’m not angry at Diego. Sad, regretful, and I will ask, “Why did you leave us?” But I know that Diego didn’t choose this.

I don’t believe in God. I think it must be comforting to think that Diego is with God, now, and my mother has vented some of her anger at God, so maybe it would help to have that outlet. God is real to me as Queen Maeve living in her underground kingdom.