Fucking Sad

Intuition is a very powerful thing, my dear sweet readers.

I know most of you have felt some sort of intuition in your life.  Or call it premonition.  What is it?  It's when you know something so true in your bones that you can't shake it.  Evidence doesn't back it.  Call it a gut feeling.

A friend of mine has been going through a very hard time.  She's such a strong woman and I admire her so much.  She took in her son's friend and his sister when their home became abusive.  She has always been there to give me support and a shoulder.  She is a chemistry major and has been through abusive relationships and cares for a husband with fibromyalgia (and I don't care that this is spelled wrong).

She introduced me to my fiance three years ago.  She has taught me things I never knew.  She is my friend.  She is one of the few people I stay in touch with consistently.  She is so important to me.

She was recently diagnose with an immune disorder.  She's losing the kids.  Her husband is in his own place.  Her son is with the ex husband.  She's been forced to drop out of school and in a few weeks is moving in with another friend.

Soon she'll be getting blood transfusions.

So far, this all seems hopeful.  These are good things.

A few months ago, I kept having dreams that she died.  Or that something was off.  And I asked her about it.  She laughed.

 "There is no dying in my world."

But yesterday, my fiance and I visited with her.  And in the quiet of a cigarette break, she confided something to me.

"I can't shake this feeling that this home" - we were on the balcony and she gestured to the apartment behind us- "is going to be my last."  She looked me in the eye.  "I don't think I'm going to survive the blood transfusions."

It wasn't despairing or overdramatic.  That's not her style.  I wanted so badly to be surprised.

But I've been feeling the same thing.  And I hate it.

"If it happens, I want people to get drunk and dance.  Someone needs to dance on the bar."

I don't want this to happen.  I don't.  I don't want to think this is going to happen.

And maybe she's wrong.  Maybe it's just a transition.  Maybe it's just a new start.

She has a history of blood clots and all sorts of other problems.

I am so fucking sad.

If she dies (I hate that word), she's promised to haunt me.  And if it does come to pass in the next few weeks, at least I know.  At least I am prepared.  Which is part of why she told me.

The anniversary of my grandma's death is approaching.  Spring is when I seem to lose or nearly lose people I care about.  May is when things get better.

I fucking hate spring.

I fucking hate this.