Breathing.

Breathing.

So, the past few days have been hazier than usual.
Unintentionally so.
But the bombshell of hearing about him….. really threw me for a loop.

It’s intensely difficult to achieve sleep, when your entire moral compass is in complete meltdown.
Because hearing he had surgery to amputate a limb to try to save him from the sepsis that’s slowly killing him, alongside a laundry list of other ailments…
It just feels so innately wrong to be feeling a sense of elation and relief when you know someone else is in incredible pain. And not just him, but his family – who did nothing wrong. They cannot be blamed for him – sins of the father and all that.
Half of me is on a high. And the other half feels insanely guilty.
I’m going to hell for wanting to laugh and jump for joy.

But I already know, that I am never going to have to worry about bumping into him on the street.
Never again will he somehow manage to be on my doorstep.
Never again will I fear the suburb where he lived.
Never again will I fear him.
Because in the state he is in, he cannot ever hurt or scare me again.

And that makes me feel……Relieved. Happy. Wickedly happy.
Am I a bad person for feeling like this?
I sincerely hope, that when it comes to some kind of judgement day that this truckload of intense feelings of happiness based on someone else’s misery, are overlooked for the reason it makes me so happy.
Because I know I’m justifying here, but what he did was so inhuman… soul destroying. And has impacted my entire life.
And for that, I feel like I’m allowed to have a moment of relief for him suffering the way I have my whole life.
Only it’s the end of his, and it couldn’t have come sooner.