I am a half read book who can’t flip its own page, wondering what my story is, what my new page has to say. Since my father passed away, I climb mountains in my brain every day, I challenge myself not to lash out at every person that crosses my path. I was ripped down because of how I feel, ‘til the point where I resented my feelings. Well can I say that’s true or am I having a meltdown at 5 in the morning a time where I should be snoring nonetheless, I find myself watching old videos of him and scrolling our pictures together because its fascinating. Not the death of him but the idea of escaping because this empty feeling is slowly escalating. And even if he’s not here to stay, I’m glad the universe allowed him to stop by.
A one stanza quote I made for him way back when I was in 5th grade:
Dad, could you come back and stay a while.
I want to hear your voice and see you smile.
I want to hold you tight and never let go.
And tell you how much I love you so.