Venting

Haven’t posted anything in a while, so I’m taking this opportunity to vent.

It’s been 4 months. He’s been gone 4 months, feels like 4 minutes and 4 years all at once. Where is he? Why won’t he come back? I don’t understand. This isn’t real. Right? What do you mean he’s gone, where did he go? How did this happen? I’ve lost my mind a little bit. I haven’t made it through one day at work this week without crying. Not tearing-up crying, full-on-bawling crying. See? Crying now. It’s like someone punched me in the heart. I feel actual, literal pain in my heart. Constantly. I only have this job because my dad is dead. I would not be working here if he were alive. I hate it here. Doesn’t everyone get it? I resent the people that have no idea. I resent the people who pretend like nothing happened. People get upset by what’s written in this blog. Don’t care. Don’t like it? Don’t read it. Won’t censor myself—edit yes, censor no—I started this thing for me, not you. My entire being aches. Pain pain pain everywhere. All I have to do is think about him for more than 2 seconds and I lose it. Sometimes I marvel at the fact that I can still stand up. At least the weather matches my mood. I miss him so much, missing him consumes me to such an extent that I feel like I, too, am dying. What’s a stronger way to say “I miss”? I miss his stupid little smile. I miss his thinning brown hair with gray on the sides. I miss his too-tight sweatpants with the elastic band at the ankles, and his fuzzy old green bathrobe. I miss hearing him clap and holler at the football games. I sit in his chair now. It makes me feel like I’m sitting with him. I’ve had terrible dreams lately. In my dream the other night I hugged him. Why can’t I hug him now? I can’t delete his numbers in my phone, I just can’t. Don’t want to. His office needs his laptop back. We have to clean out his office. Do you know what’s in his office? Pictures of me. Cheerleading pictures, yearbook pictures. “He was so proud of me,” says everyone. I know. Seeing that, seeing his love for me displayed so simply, that will kill me. He hasn’t been in his office since February. Hasn’t? Hadn’t. Can’t get used to this past tense bullshit. Doesn’t seem right. I wonder what he’s doing. Is he next to me right now? Do I even believe in that sort of thing? I want to. I want to believe he’s “watching over me” but I just don’t know. I have three therapists’ phone numbers written down, haven’t called any of them. Why? I miss the way he answered his work phone. I wish I could just hear his voice. Where is his voice? Dad? Daddy? Can you hear me? Can you hear me when I talk to you in my head? Or should I say it out loud? I have so much to tell you, so much to ask you. Can’t you just give me directions from our shore house to Baltimore? I forget. Who will tell me that stuff now? We have to do something with his stuff in the house. Oh God, all that stuff. How did he get so sick, so fast? Could we have prevented it? Doctors say no. Doctors fucking suck. HOW DID THIS HAPPEN??? How did I get here???? Would it be worse, though, if he were still here but very sick? What if we had to spend Christmas in a hospital hospice unit, and he couldn’t even speak to us? Oh God, Christmas. Thanksgiving. Words cannot even describe how badly I do NOT want to acknowledge any holiday ever again. What is Christmas without him? Who will put up the tree and get all pissy about it? Decorating the tree to his music, without him? No. No. I will not do it. No birthday either. I was mad at him on my birthday last year. How am I ever going to be able to leave now? Leave my mom? I would be a horrible daughter. I am a horrible daughter, I’m not helping with anything. I suck. I can’t stand the thought of leaving her alone. I feel so alone. She wants to go to the cemetery. I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready to go there. Seeing his name written there…Can’t do that either. I heard a Del Vikings song on the radio yesterday and I thought of him. Every song recorded before 1980 makes me think of him. Every aspect of every day makes me think of him. He is everywhere and nowhere. His picture is right here to the left of my computer. Me, Mom, Dad, Erica, Zoe. Happy, smiling, Chicago. That wasn’t that long ago. How is it possible that so much has changed since then? He loved Zoe so much. She won’t even remember him. He loved me more than I am capable of comprehending. I know he didn’t want to leave me. He told me in the hospital everything would be okay. I was hysterical, he looked at me inquisitively and asked why are you crying? We’ll get through it. We didn’t. I begged him not to leave me. But when I realized he was leaving, I begged him to hold on so Erica and Ken and Kathy could say goodbye. I should have asked him to hold on longer? Someone recently told me this pain will never go away. I will just learn how to ignore it when I need to. It will become duller. I can’t picture my life without him. WHERE IS HE? WHEN IS HE COMING HOME??? It’s all so very unfair. I don’t care how childish that sounds. I hate hearing little kids scream and cry but sometimes I want to be them, I want to plop down in the middle of the floor and throw a tantrum. I WANT MY DADDY!!! WHERE’S MY DADDY!!!!!!!! I DON’T UNDERSTAND WHY HE’S GONE!!!!!!

WHY WHY WHY W HY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY!?!!!!??????????!!!

I miss him so much.

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