*

They're both dead. I was with Mom while she died, held her hand, sang her some of Harf one last time, collapsed against her as soon as I heard her code. Anna was with me, and I was very glad she knew not to touch me until later[64]. One of those moments that I truly understand that she's my sister regardless of the circumstances of our births. We wept separately at first, then together. Fucking christ, what a horrific way to die. I've thought about it since she was first diagnosed, saw her brain, her personality, her self, slowly fade in real time, had to live through the ugliness that was eventually all that remained of her, the fucking guilt of dreading to see her, the seizures, the strokes, the psychotic delusional screaming at nothing, the way her body gradually folded in on itself. The Maryam that Anna and I remember died years ago and we were grieving her fully over her finally-peaceful shell.

Cryssie died at some point when I was with Mom. I would've had to fucking choose between them. What sick shit is that? God doesn't understand why I can't fucking respect him anymore and he does shit like this, he tortures me even more than Walter could ever hope to. The only consolation is that Cryssie wasn't alone, that Enrique and Casey were with her, which is how I got the call about it-- god, Casey was the one to break Rick's death to me, too-- but it didn't matter at the time. I got that phone call and I collapsed to the floor like I'd collapsed against my mother. She always thought I'd abandoned her on purpose and then I couldn't even fucking be there when she died. I'm as shit a daughter as I am a son. I'm nothing.

*

I was able to feel something again, I felt like myself again, I felt real, and it was all just in service of feeling my heart die all over again. As angry as I was about Walter giving me so little grieving time, getting back to work was actually helpful. Reminded me that I didn't have to feel at all. I have two funerals to go to soon and I'm dreading them if only because I know I'll have to rip my heart open again.

I've been trying to keep things moving along as smoothly as possible at work despite everything else but Rory and Samuel are giving me more and more reason to have us move on without them. Holding things up during meetings, always seeming to need to interject some contrarian bullshit into everything, either barely being able to keep up with writing and rehearsals (Rory) or, in Sam's case, getting a little too concerned with the sanctity of his organic drum kit or whatever pretentious crap. The contrarian bullshit might be the worst, really. And especially for Sam. Like, both of them KNOW what Walter tried to do to me[65]. And they still trust HIS decision-making over mine? REALLY? This makes me all the more suspicious of Sam-- he'd have so much motivation to suck up to Walter now, to be a good little "straight" boy for him so he doesn't dig up a picture of Sam with his tongue in another guy's mouth at an afterparty or whatever. Fucker.

Nate obviously still trusts Walt too much, but that's a given[66]. Jeffrey, thankfully, despite his Jeff-ness and despite him still being obviously uncomfortable around me, seems to be the only one who understands the gravity of everything Walter’s done and tried to do, and moreover, has never been as big of a Walt guy as the rest of them. He joined last and he’s had little reason to feel any strong loyalty towards him. Silver linings. Ugh, a part of me almost wishes Sam were the one to understand and Jeff one of the contrarian assholes, it would have been SO wonderful to finally have an excuse to kick Jeff to the curb. God's having another laugh at me, though.

PS: Mom left me her jewelry box. Wasn’t expecting that at all. I was curious about what was in it since I was a very young boy, and she used to let me wear things from it before Granddad caught us one time. I didn’t touch it after that ‘til I stole her diamonds from it years later. I haven’t been able to open it. It’s hard to look at it. Don’t even know where to put it. It’s in the back of my linen closet for now, but it doesn’t feel good keeping it there, either. Like it’s something I don’t care about. Fuck I DO, I care TOO fucking much if anything. Ugh.

*

Met with Lou-- this time I knew what I wanted to do from the get-go, in a far less emotional or dramatic way. I just needed his help for the particulars. And, I mean, he IS right-- Jeff Nate and myself are the songwriters of the band. Rory and Sam have pitched in every so often, but their entire existence here has been about never rocking any sort of boat, making jokes whenever the boat threatens to capsize but never trying to right it themselves, and then getting pissy whenever I try my best to not have the whole thing sink. Why try and stake a claim in something you're only a part of for convenience's sake? And why start caring now, when the rest of us want to get a move on? And, above all else, why the fuck do you think this is the time to fuck with me??

If I'm angry here and if I'm angry at those two, it wasn't an anger that showed in a way that bothered Lou. Then again, it makes sense, given his profession, how unflappable he is. But either way, he and his fiancee Barb and some of their friends have weekly dinners at this swanky Italian joint, and he invited me to the next one. I said no at first, and I still think I'll feel awkwardly out of place-- I'm well-off and all that, obviously, but I've never felt comfortable around people who are comfortable being well-off, who've been well-off for so long (or even their whole lives) that our lives would be barely comprehensible to the other-- but he convinced me in the end. He's right; enough awful things have been going on in my life and I've had to do enough stressful work just to stay on top of it all. A little break from that could be nice, as long as I can afford it.

*

Got my ducks lined up enough to get Sam and Rory out; even got Nate and Jeff to understand, or at least, understand enough. They're not happy, but it's not like I am either. I hated to come back here at all but coming back with the leverage I have, and with Lou's assistance, has served me even better than I ever would have expected. They both have their own sad reasons for wanting to stay here (and I do mean that sincerely), and I can't say I don't understand that or sympathize in a general sense, but we all have our sad reasons, and I really think the severance I got for them is more than adequate to cover things-- and I very much didn't have to go out of my way to help them get more money or work out Sam's "firing" in such a way that he keeps his health insurance to put his new kid under for awhile while he looks for something else through the state or wherever else (hopefully a decent enough amount of time; I know how much bureaucracy you have to deal with for that shit), or keep what little songwriting credits they have and maybe even some drum tracks on a few songs-- and I especially didn't have to go out of my way to do all that after how little sympathy they've had for what Walter's put me through, and not just this year but in general (Sam still hurts the most, there, and I don’t think he’d ever get it, somehow). So really, they'll get over it. You're welcome.

Walt was pissed at the whole thing, which just made me laugh. "I knew you were a real piece of fucking work Jules, but this is unreal." And I told him-- what did you expect?? That I was going to just lay down and die for you? --No answer to that because the answer would've been yes, because that's what he's gotten used to (not from me, but from the others). So I also said-- sitting "faggy" on his desk-- well, Walter, you *are* still the boss. That comes with a lot of responsibility. But I'm nicer than you, so I can take a bit of it off your hands, if you'd like. --So that's how getting tasked to find replacements for Rory and Sam happened. Blew him a kiss and gave him a little finger wave on the way out; got to make him uncomfortable for once after years of little shoulder touches and "good boy"s and unsuccessful attempts to get me to call him sir. Grow some balls and find yourself an actual sub, you asshole.

PS: Dinner w/Lou and Barb went well enough, tho I did feel ridiculous in the beginning-- I'd bought myself a nice new suit, that sort of tweed gray that’s fashionable right now, sharp lapels, and I had time to have the blazer tailored. But not the slacks! And I didn't have time to hem them myself, either. So even with higher heeled boots they nearly dragged on the ground. UGH. I had a hard time with the tie as well-- I still hate wearing them, but I wanted to look nice. Lou fixed it for me, which embarrassed me even more, but-- well. It was really nice food. I ate all of it-- some pesto pasta thing with scallops, salad, various little dishes that seemed like art pieces more than food-- and had to drink a little more wine than I otherwise would so I wouldn't want to puke it up immediately or feel like my tie was suffocating me or otherwise feel like an idiot (it was GREAT wine). Thankfully didn't act or say anything too stupid despite being buzzed. Barb seems nice as well, and everyone else was able to put up with me and didn’t treat me like a circus freak or museum exhibit, so that’s a success in and of itself.

*

[64]Marv was also there, of course, and he also knew not to touch me, but he also understands what Anna and I have is closer than what he and I have anyway; that she's more a sister than he is a father. At this point, I think he's okay with that. There's rarely anything angry in it. Rarely.

[65]And what he’s continuing to try and do, even after all this – I had to fight to get fucking two weeks leave for grieving time. He gave himself an entire month off when his father died, though. That’s different, I guess. Asshole.

[66]He was also the first one to reach out to me about Mom – over the phone and once I got back to work; patting my shoulder with an awkward but appreciated “hey, I’m sorry, man”. I don’t know why him expressing earnest kindness towards me always throws me off, but it does.