The accident occurred one year ago today. And I’ve already had to unplug the phone. Everyone wants a piece of me now, yes they do. They want a ruckus…they want a freakin show! The bastards are hoping to see an emotional break-down but I won’t give it to them! Don’t the buggers know, if I’m going to break down, I’m going to do it alone? Why do people even think it’s the anniversary that will break you? The pain never goes away! It doesn’t matter that it’s been a year…what matters – is knowing there will be at least 20 more anniversaries unless God does a mercy killing.

An accident is what they called it…but I know it was my fault. If I’d been there watching her…if I wasn’t so wrapped up in myself to keep a strong eye on her…she’d still be here with me.

My therapist says he’s worried about me, on such a ‘tragic day.’ He was the third to call, asking if I’d like an appointment…I told him to ‘bugger off!’ That’s when I finally ripped the cord straight from the wall.

I already know who did it. But no one listens. I’ve known since the beginning who committed the horrible deed. I know those greedy, lying fingers anywhere! The man who took away the most important symbol in my life…(oh God…hold on, my eyes are wet…)

For the rest of the day, I plan on sulking, in front of my loud daytime TV dramas, in my underwear. Who cares about the world? The world is a harsh place where not even office supplies are safe anymore. I don’t care anymore. I’m giving up the hope that the greasy little scumbag will confess. It’s already been a year…my red Swingline stapler is probably well past her prime. The only hope I can cling onto – is that she’s safe on a desk looking beautiful and making connections between the most important documents.