Who; Jo Harvelle, open When; Afternoon Where; Roadhouse Rating; Clean for now, TBD if someone tags in Status; Complete as is, In Progress if someone wants to join
She found herself living her life from distraction to distraction because at least when she was occupied she couldn't think too much about it all. It was easier to just ignore, to focus on her friends and family and try to live as much in the moment as she could and push the lingering pain from her mind. For the most part it worked, the days were the easiest filled with things to do to keep her from thinking too much. The nights were the hardest, she'd never been good at sleep to begin with and now with the raw, aching sense of loss that had settled into her bones and the ever present daunting worry for the people she loved night had become a dreaded occurrence. More often than not it found her on the fire escape accessible from the window in her room trying to pass the time with a book or wrapped up in a blanket on the couch trying desperately to lose herself in a movie to keep the thoughts at bay. More often than not it didn't work.
The pain she could handle, the pain she could deal with. She'd done it before after all, and at least this time she had gotten a goodbye, that had to count for something. She knew she could shut that part of herself down, the part that could care about someone the way she had about Dean, probably not the best of coping strategies but it had gotten her through this kind of loss before. The worry though, the worry was something that she couldn't turn off. She still loved him and to know that he was going through something she could barely wrap her head around hurt. And it wasn't just Dean, it was everyone. Sam, though he seemed to be dealing a little bit better, and Heather's pregnancy, all the things that just kept piling up on the people she cared about with no sign of ever stopping. It made her feel useless and helpless, unable to do much more than just try to be there for everyone. And if there was one thing she hated more than anything it was to feel useless.
But that was for the night and this was the day and she tried to shove past all the bad thoughts that circled in her brain as she felt the tug on her sleeve and heard her name drawn out in an annoyed "Jooooooooooooo".
Jo grinned at Jack where he sat on the bartop from her spot behind it, a pile of crayons and colouring books between them. "I know Jack, I know," she said, "pay attention Jo, right?" At the grin from the boy she couldn't help but feel a bit better, he certainly had a way of doing that, reminding her there was still good here. She picked up a green crayon and held it perched an inch from the paper, getting ready for another round of speed colouring, some ridiculous game they had started in on that involved trying to colour the page as fast as possible while staying in the lines. "One... two..." she laughed as Jack started on two with a fit of giggles. "Cheater," she muttered at him and quickly set about starting on her own page. Distractions... they were good.