The bad thing happened.
We all knew, all of us, that it would happen someday.
But not today.
It was too soon.
The bad thing, it ripped through us.
We weren’t ready.
None of us were ready.
In its wake are tears and sadness and emptiness and anger.
Hollowness abounds with questions unasked and unanswered,
memories unmade and plans unfulfilled.
People came from all over to help recover from the bad thing.
They feel better being there, believing they’re helping.
Wallowing with us, empathizing.
Maybe burying themselves in the devastation helped them.
I just wanted to be alone.
And now I am alone and I can’t breathe a little.
I can’t stop crying and I’m so tired.
I can finally feel all my feelings and I hate it.
I thought the bad thing would happen in fifteen to twenty years.
I thought there were would be warning signs, something on the horizon.
My dad passed away and it’s the worst thing to happen in my life.
I’m not the only person this has affected, I know that.
But I’m the only me.
The only person who feels exactly how I feel.
Everyone says they’re sorry, or that they’re proud of me for being strong,
or that I can feel however I feel and grieve however I want.
But I don’t want to grieve.
I’m so sad and I miss him so much.
I didn’t even get to say goodbye.
I just want him back. I just want my dad back.
To my usual followers: My dad passed on 3/15. I appreciate your patience while I grieve.
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iniverse 