Building 8 “The Porch Light”

The neighbor's porch light is on again. It is really bright, and only seems to be on late at night, when everyone else is sleeping. I tell him it pisses me off, but he doesn't listen. He says that he does it to keep things from entering his yard, but I don't really believe him. I think he just does it because he knows it annoys me. I have tried to reason with him, but he ignores me, and now...now I am sitting up late at night, too angry at him to really get some sleep.

It isn't his fault. I don't sleep well anyway. Probably wouldn't sleep even if the light was off. There have just been a lot of things building up. That is kind of the way things have been for me lately. Even if I could find a way to let go of something, something else just arrives in its place. In a way, the light is nice. It makes me think of something else.

I have been thinking of her a lot lately, and I think maybe being annoyed is better than being upset.

Margaret asked me today if everything was alright. I told her about the dream I had and she didn't get upset. She tends to be the calmer of the two of us. She tends to be an adult about these things. I wouldn't blame her though. Being upset. I'm dreaming about my dead wife. It's understandable, consider-ing the time of year it is. Winter is always full of bad memories, but she is supportive. She doesn't expect me to get well soon.

That helps.

I still haven't seen my kids. I think they are avoiding me. I try to call, but then their uncle or aunt picks up and tells me that they are either out with their friends, or something like that. I don't even ask if the kids want to visit. I am certain she asks them if they want to. She doesn't hate me or anything. And I know my sister probably tries to convince them, even if she doesn't really like me. It's the kid’s choice, and I think they don't want to see me.

I'm settling into the routine of the restaurant. The owner is good about my need for breaks so long as I don't get the orders wrong. Sometimes it gets really hard. I get anxious, and then I start thinking about things. I started smoking again. I don't like to, but it is a distraction. Seems to be the best thing for me right now. Just being distracted.

It is strange just how dirty things can become. We can look at a situation, and we can witness something terrible. Something that makes our stomach turn or leaves us unable to talk. Something someone says or something someone does. Doesn't matter. What matters is that you are upset, because you don't know how to respond to all of it. I think that is probably the most dangerous part of a bad situation. You look at it, and you assume that it can't get any worse.

The silence is what got to me in the end. It’s what bothered me the most. When my previous wife was still alive. I would just sit up at nights with her, during the periods after the surgeries and the doctors and the nurses had made their rounds. I would’ve hoped that she would have made a sound. Any sound other than sleeping. She hadn't said a word in a while, and before that it had just been murmuring.

I would be awake, just trying not to hear things. I would wake up, and I could swear that she said something. That she was crying or called my name or needed water. Then I would go to her bed and there would be nothing wrong. She was sleeping, and when I looked at her, I had to look at her face. And the rest of her. What was done to her. And I didn't want to look anymore. Not because I didn't love her, but because it hurt worse than anything you could imagine.

It bothers me that a lot of these entries are sad. There isn't a lot of humor or anything. Just a lot of dark, but my therapist told me to put it all down. Not to lie anymore.

My neighbor is outside right now. He is yelling, waving some big stick or something. Probably some raccoon is his yard. It is four in the morning and the guy can't just let the animals be...

Wait...

I think he turned off the light. I didn't see him turn off the light. He is still yelling though. It isn't the same yelling as before. He isn't yelling because he is angry.

I'm waiting for the lights to go on in the other houses. Someone other than me has to notice.

I think the man across the way is in trouble. The lights in the other houses are on and I can see him in the back yard. He isn't moving at all...

The police are arriving. They have flashlights. There's a lot of blood. I don't like this at all.

The police are looking for the man's arm.

None of this makes sense.