It's weird and terribly lonely to be writing on this blog today, the seventh anniversary of the death of my friend Karen Beth Hunter.  Part  of me wants to go out, part of me cannot go out.  Over the years, my friends have forgotten.  It's not their fault.  Amazing though  One waited until close to midnight to call me a few years ago. I have friends who can't stand the sound of my voice.  Friends who have other things to do. This doesn't make them bad friends.  Just emphasizes the loneliness of not having someone who wanted to talk to me first and foremost.

Larry and Bernie have been great.

I haven't read a book in a few weeks,  haven't been interested in very much.  There's fear, there's despair, there's a feeling of hopelessness.

It's one day.  It was one horrible day.

I miss Karen.  I miss being hopeful.  I miss being loved.

I miss Karen.