in the middle of the night

[fox]

it's a month today (wednesday) since my aunt died. (she's been dead longer than i even knew she was sick. wow, is life a bitch sometimes or what.) and on a day-to-day basis, my life is [as] normal [as my life ever gets] -- but every so often, when i should be doing something else (such as, often, going to sleep; what am i doing up at this hour?), some synapse in my brain reminds me that she's gone. and it's like some elaborate setup-for-a-practical-joke type thing: there's a tiny little germ of a thought, that's right, she's gone, and before you have time to catch your breath or even turn around and face it, the whole fact whacks you up the back of your head. that's right, she's gone. and my throat tightens, and my chest aches.