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take a shower

Yesterday was two years. 

I've taken a shower the evening of both anniversaries during the 10 minute window I believe Enzo pulled the trigger. It's the only place I feel safe from the clock. I can't stare at it. So sometime during my shower, the minute my son fired his gun comes and goes. 

Or at least that's the plan. I miscalculated the time I was in the shower last night.
When I looked at my phone, it was the exact minute he sent out the Tweet: "after careful consideration I have decided to exit the simulation. I love you all so much and I will see you in the next one."

I hate 9:01 pm on February 28th.

A jolt went thru my heart. I got out of the shower too soon. Unable to decide what to do, I stood there. I took my nightly medication. And stood there. 
Shouldn't I be doing something? Some action at the moment my son took his life that would honor him? Something. Anything. 

But I didn't. I stood there. Then I went to bed. 
I've done a lot to honor him. So it's ok that at that exact moment, I try to hide. And when that doesn't work, I simply stop. 

Two years feels like 200 without him. 

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