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Gloria Funcheon, now a 20-year-old Kansas State University student, wrote these journal entries after her brother, U.S. Army Sgt. Alex Funcheon, was killed by a roadside bomb in Baghdad at the age of 21. He died on April 29, 2007.
In May 2007, Gloria Funcheon, a Bel Aire resident, graduated from the International Baccalaureate program at East High School. She began classes at K-State that fall.
May 9, 2007, 10:33 p.m.
Yesterday, my brother was put into the ground. People got out of their cars to watch. Police saluted. Strangers cried. In the limo no one spoke so I looked out the window. Looked into the faces of strangers looking at me.
I've been amazed at the outpouring of love on my family. Sufficed to say, there are no doubts in my mind as to if people care about me or not. But when everyone leaves, I am immeasurably sad.
How does life go on after this?
June 17, 2007, 12:16 a.m.
I've been called an "old soul" many times before. The past 8 weeks have felt like years and I've aged terribly.
Even the past 48 hours have been enough for a lifetime.
June 28, 2007, 10:54 p.m.
Two hours makes two months.
I can't do this alone.
August 26, 2007, 11:51 p.m.
Its hard to enjoy what is supposed to be the most fun time in someone's life. I feel like I've left home too soon. The problem is I don't know how much time must lapse until I see "normal" again.
October 29, 2007, 8:50 p.m.
Today was really, really hard.
I can't think coherently anymore
December 12, 2007, 8:59 p.m.
The pain is duller now. But it has a habit of stabbing me every so often.
April 21, 2008, 11:41 a.m.
There is sadness. An overwhelming feeling sometimes. It starts in the region behind my eyes and I can see things much more clearly. See just how frivolous and silly everything is in comparison. The feeling moves to my mouth and I purse my lips and lock my jaw. I probably look angry -- but I never look at myself when I feel this sadness. There is no need to look. I know who I am. My physical manifestation doesn't matter during this time. It is illusory.
And I feel. Really, legitimately feel. Its like nothing else in the world. It's a desire to live a desire to die and desire to feel and to not feel. It is an affirmation of my existence. It is the most heartbreakingly honest feeling one can ever have. Happiness is transient, and a lie usually anyway. Happiness comes through miscommunication and exploitation. Sadness is real because the intentions are pure.
July 18, 2008, 3:27 a.m.
I miss you the most when I'm surrounded by people I don't feel any connection to.
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