Whoever said this shit would be less painful as the years go by, was full of it. You're missed, Dad, but I'm still angry as hell with you for doing this to me.
Somebody just tell me what "God" had planned for me to learn with this. Just how to fuck up someone's life and mind? That's really what it feels like. I don't know how to go forward. I'm just stuck, and I can't for the life of me figure out how to get my life off 'pause.'
I'm still angry as hell. I feel guilty for reminding him of my mother, and I feel guilty for subconsiously making him "pay" for not being there all those years. And I'm fucking sad...because I'm never going to be able to get him out of my head. He's the first thing I think of when I wake up, and he's the last thought I have when I go to bed...and there is nothing I do during the day that I don't think of what he would've said about it or whether he would've been disappointed in me or proud of me or happy for me. And I'm never going to remember what it felt like for him to hug me and tell me he loved me. All I'm ever going to see is him in the casket, and all I'm ever going to remember is just how cold and stiff he felt lying there. Why me? What the fuck did I do to deserve this. Damn it.
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