It happens.
Everyone dies.
We all know this.
We all expect this.
But it is not fun for those left behind.
It never gets easier.
For me, it's getting worse.
Dad died in August...
And now I cry at the drop of a hat.
I was ok before.
And now it's harder.
Thinking about all the things he will miss.
My wedding.
My nephew growing up.
My first child.
Death fucking sucks.
But if you're still here.
Than keep on living.
It's the only thing you can do.
Live the fuck out of your life.
Searching.
Always searching.
It seems something is missing and it's right there at the tip of my fingers but it keeps slipping, slipping away.
My fingers must covered in butter because I can't hold on to anything. It. Whatever is missing.
Curiosity. Curious about everything. Interesting. Everything is so damn interesting.
Why can't I find what I'm searching for?
Why can't I figure out what I'm missing?
Everyday the desperation gets stronger and stronger.
Running. Barreling through me like a stampede. Crashing into the deep recesses of my mind. Tearing apart everything I do. Everything I think.
How can I stop it from ripping me apart from the inside out?
