Sobs

"When morning came and you weren't there...
And night time came and you still weren't there...
Then for me there never was a day.'

I'm not sure whoever wrote this, when, why and how. But it describes me and my inability to deal with death and grief. And why hell am I writing about this, just seconds before the clock strikes the hour to the beginning of my birthday? It's because I've just had my last 35 year old good cry. And boy did I need it. The kind of cry where you sob and sob endlessly, then get interrupted... by brother darling (a real darling for once) screaming a happy birthday to us at the top of his voice. And I just held onto the sobs for a minute, put the phone down and continued the crying game. I don't know why birthdays, anniversaries... which are supposed to be happy.... have me in tears, real tears. Or maybe I know...