- Why us??
- Why me??
- Why did he fall and hit his head and not me? Why wasn't I there to catch him, instead of brushing my frigging teeth?
- Why didn't I know it was bad?
- Why did he laugh it off and be excited about his black eye?
- Why didn't Natasha Richardson die the week before so I would know what "talk and die" syndrome was?
- Why didn't I take him to the hospital even though I know he wouldn't let me?
- Why was the cut only about a 1/4 inch long?? YOU CAN'T DIE FROM THAT!!!
- Why couldn't I fix it?
- Why didn't I MAKE HIM STOP DRINKING?
- Why wouldn't he?
- And why am I drinking enough for the both of us now?
- Why is it my fault?
- Why do I want it to be?
- Why do I feel fine one second and not the next?
- Why is my guilt like a river, calm in one spot and raging the next?
- Why wasn't it someone else's turn to die?
- Why does everyone tell me it will get better? Do they know?
- Why do I even ask?
- Why am I still here? I was a bad wife and a bad friend.
- Why couldn't I save him?
- Why is my life going on , when his can't?
- Why can't anyone answer me?
- And if they did, why couldn't they help?
- Why is there only one person whose word I take as gold, when I have so many friends?
- What the hell is wrong with me?
- Why can't I catch a freaking break??
.....turn into this???
Welcome to my personal hell. These are what 90% of my thoughts are made up of these days. No wonder I have nothing. Nothing but Grief and Dr. Lecter.
In the words of the song....Oh yes, I'm the Great Pretender.
