I’m having a passive- aggessive moment and because my mother is a major passive-aggresive it makes me un-comfortable. I don’t want next Sunday to come. I have a visual of trying to keep a door shut with all my might. Lying on the ground holding it open with my legs against the door as it exonerably moves shut no matter how much strength I use. One year, It can’t be one year. I won’t let it. It’s wrong! He can’t be gone that long! He just can’t! I still want to tell him things and hug him and laugh with him. And … I can’t.