I must have a keen sense for a load-o'-crap about to dump itself on me. Hey crap, ya you! I'm this way! I should have gone into today with a fricken bullet proof vest and a really special helmet with a damn target on it, and my shoelaces tied together. I tell you, I am down for the count. Today took me down. I never even had a chance.
It's one thing if it's about me. But today it's not. It's about someone that I love... my own flesh and blood. So I will fight til the death. I will protect at any cost. And yet again, it is out of my control. Although the current predicament is not dire (yet), or of life and death matter, it is absolutely infuriating. No matter how strong I stand, no matter how tough my exterior, inside or out, I fail to save. I cannot save. I've had someone slip through my finger tips already. I've watched the death creep up and slowly strangle and steal and suffocate. I can not do this again. Death follows me.
If I love you, please stay the hell away from me. I don't know that I can live through this again.
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I don't know if you're speaking of a physical or metaphoric death and it concerns me... Though I don't know you personally (or at least, I don't believe that I do), I wish that no harm would ever come to you or yours. I am hoping that this is just a turning point in your story that has a good/positive ending for you. Stay strong.
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