.... it does.
And that's ok.
I can cope, I can deal with it, and I will not give in.
I have friends I can call on, and I did, and then spent the evening at a local base, drinking beer and eating pizza. Well. I had a beer and 3 slices of pizza.
We watched some John Dunham. I did some thinking. I thought about the shock I had had earlier in the day, the sense of anger and loss, and I began to grok it.
I'll get there.
But not tonight. Tonight I'm going to bed.
Tonight I choose to ignore the stupidness of the day, and think about watching a film.
We watched War of the Worlds, with Tom Cruise. We sat together on the sofa and watched it. When I woke up, it was almost over, and I was lying snuggled up against Rich. He had his arm along me - not round me, just along me. He was watching the film, and absent mindedly drawing patterns on my arm with his finger. And I realised this was a good friend. I only ever fall asleep on people I really trust. We stayed up so late that night, talking, eating cheese on toast and drinking tea, sat on the back step, it was hardly worth me going to bed when he left, but it cemented our friendship, totally.
He was my best friend, the best I had. He grokked me in a way no other person ever has.
To bed then, to dream of bad films!
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