Every once in a while . . . it still hits me. I can remember *everything*. I remember how she looked, I remember exactly how it felt to hug her, I remember her laugh and her eyes . . .
I remember the look she gave me at the hospital . . .
I remember a lot of things I want to remember, just not now. And I remember a lot of things I never want to remember, but know I should.
Things to do when I eventually die, if they're possible:
1) Go back and find out what she really thought about everything, and what was really going through her head. Too too many inconsistencies. And I'm pretty sure that either she's rationalized them to herself at this point, has forgotten them, or wouldn't tell me. Or several of those.
2) Find whoever's responsible for the world working out the way it does and beat him/her up. Stop playing with your giant cow and start paying attention already!