Dying in your sleep

Mary is all out of sorts. This morning she emailed me, and said that a friend of hers had unexpectedly died in his sleep last night. Another friend had called her at 1:30am to tell her.

She's really sounding disjointed, a little lost. I talked to her tonight while I was at the store getting blank DVDs, and she barely made sense.

People our age aren't supposed to die.

And here I've lost friends my age already. My late friend Marie, killed by cancer when she was 38, was the hardest to take. I still think a lot about her. We're just not supposed to die in our thirties and early forties. Dying in one's sleep is something you're supposed to do when you're 80. Maybe not even then.

I don't know what's going to happen between the two of us. With Kay gone, and Mary seeming more and more distant, I think it's time to go meet some new people, if nothing more than to distract me from the convoluted feelings I feel about the two of them. There are a few candidates coming into focus, but I'm not sure what may happen with any of them. As usual, if something does happen, you'll be among the first to know about it. Have to keep the titillation factor up, otherwise you'll go read the blog written by the angst-ridden 16-year-old nymphomaniacal girl in Lansing, Michigan.