I realised how time truly flies, and I can’t remember the last time I thought of papa.
The other day in the lift, an old man, about papa’s age said ” Good morning “.
And I cried the whole way to work.
How I missed my dad.
First I felt ashamed, then I felt like I let him down, then I felt guilty. Then angry.
I think I have been feeling angry for a long time – at why did he had to die. And yes I know its something I cannot comprehend or whatever. I can reason myself – but I don’t understand. I obviously cannot accept it, still.
And it has eaten me alive.
I don’t have hope. I don’t have the slimmest chance to love anymore.
Simply because I can’t deal with anymore pain.
Don’t know how to deal with life sometimes. This fucking shit.