Sometimes, I think about writing an entry about certain things, but then I worry that I'm being selfish or a bitch and who the hell cares, anyway? Half the time, I can't even put it in words.

So my grandfather is missing.

All of his shit is either gone or sitting on the curb, waiting for the garbage men. The lawnmower? Missing. The blankets my grandma crocheted while she was dying of cancer? Trash. The dog leash? Missing. Pictures of the family dating back to the turn of the century? Trash. He left no note. The neighbors last saw him on Friday. They have no idea who he could have gone off with. And there has to be someone else since my grandfather can't drive anymore and where the hell would he go?

For someone who hates so many people for so few reasons, my grandfather can be damn trusting.

The dog is also gone, which probably explains the absent leash.

My mom filed a missing persons report. So now we get to wait.

I do not know how I feel about this situation. Really. I think I've forced myself to reject any and all emotions in regards to my grandfather. Whether or not this is a good thing has yet to be determined.

As I have probably mentioned before, my grandfather hates me. I can't stay in the same area as him for more than five minutes without feeling like I am going to puke. The stories I could tell and the reasons I could give would fill this screen and put you right to sleep. So, in summary, I do not have a good relationship with my grandfather. Shit, I don't have a relationship with my grandfather, period. And it's not like he's going to get some horrible terminal illness and we'll establish a bond in his last days when we both realize that life is short and love, love, love. No. Time or words or cancer can't fix this shit.

I think what's weighing on my mind the most is that if something happens to him, I will be forced to figure out just how I feel towards him. I can't just come out and say "I hate" or "I forgive" without second-guessing myself and/or feeling sick. That's something else right there...no matter what the outcome is, no matter which thought I find is the true one, I will still hate myself. Funny, huh?

Oh, god. I don't know. I'm fucking scared. And why?

I have every reason and then some to hate my grandfather. But I just can't. And I just can't forgive, either. So I'm stuck in this goddamn limbo and I don't think I can avoid figuring out how I feel towards him for much longer.

Christ, I sound like a fucking jerk.

Anyway, someone want to tell me a joke or something? Maybe a happy story or share a link to some dumbly amusing website? I don't know. Distractions are good. I don't want to be thinking about this 24/7 and it looks like that's how it's going to be.

Wow. I can't believe I talked about that for so long. That has to be a new record or something. Seriously. But you know what? Yeah. I don't wanna talk about it anymore.

The duck has been whining that I don't talk about him enough anymore, so I let him interview me with the promise of posting it here. I was going to interview him, but he fancies himself an avian Barbara Walters. I think he just wanted to see if he could make me cry. So, yeah. A Howie and Molly interview. Tomorrow. Cuz tonight's entry needs some goddamn redemption.

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