2003-10-25 - 6:03 p.m.

I find myself twisting out the worst fantasies.

My father is coming up to visit me in a few months. He's also going in for open heart surgery before that. He's going to find out the details of the surgery on Nov 10th.

I have this horrible feeling that my father is going to die.

I have this horrible feeling that someone *has* to die because I am in China. I've twisted out all the thoughts in me head. Terry, who has a genetic disorder that I just can't understand. Marie, who is aneroxic. My father, under the knife in surgery, while I'm in China.

The whole senario played itself out in my head, and this is when I realized that I am an awful child.

I picture my mother calling to tell me, and me assuring her that I'd find a way to get home as soon as possible. Once I get off the phone with her, I run to the computer, type of an email to Mathew, send ICQ or MSN to people I know with phones in North American. Mathew has to call me. He has to call me right now.

I tell him my father has passed away, and he agrees he'll meet me in Vancouver.

The funeral is sad. I talk about how my father wanted me to go on a big adventure, how he kept encouraging me to do this, despite all of his fears about his little girl going away. I talk about how much I appreciate him for doing that. I try not to cry, and fail.

Then the part where I find out that I am a bad child.

Because in this sick fantasy daymare thingy I've concocted for myself, my mother sits me down and tells me that I've inherited a lot of money.

And Mathew and I sit down and figure out a way of him coming to China with me. We make complicated plans. He goes back home, sells all of our stuff, and flies over, bringing the cat. I cry myself to sleep a lot over my dad, but Mathew's here. We stay in China a long time, and learn Mandarin, and are happy.

I think it's horrible. I think there's something very wrong with someone who can think this way.

I love my father, I don't want him to die.