I really cant explain in words how much I miss you.. When I hear a song, I think of you. When I see a picture, I cry. I dont think Ive ever cried so much over such simple things. To be honest, these objects, these small fragments of our lives seem so small..So.. miniscule to our being when people are alive. They bring us occasional euphoria, nostalgia, or happiness. But these objects never really are appreciated... until you lose someone that you shared those objects with. I try to hold it back inside. I really do. When Im driving in my car with friends. When Im cuddling in the backseat with Chris. I try to suck it up, and breathe, and remember that everything will be okay. I try to never put anyone in an awkward situation, but I find myself unable to refrain from overflowing with tear drops the size of jupiter. Im sorry. I make things so awkward. What are you suppose to say? What can you say to anyone who has lost a parent? "Im sorry." Thats all you can say. Thats all you can form. As you watch, and wait, and listen to the person b your side to regain composure. I wish I was more graceful. I wish all that was entirely possible. I feel bad for him as he wipes away my tears. Im sure he has no clue what to say. I know hes there for me, but its as if a great divide seperates us at moments like those. What can he honestly say? What can I honestly do? I feel bad for him because he feels bad for me. And maybe the cutest part is that we both are just completely un-selfish for one moment in our lives. I wish I could describe how deep and painful voids of the heart really are. Everytime I try to patch it up, a seem breaks free and unravels my craftsmanship. I dont believe I will ever really heal. How can you ever really heal from losing your father? Is it possible? Is it possible for me to be happy without him? No. I can be happy, yes. I can live happily, yes. But I cannot live happy WITHOUT him. My happiness is seperate to that of my loss. I CANT BREATHE!! Every night... every night... the same butterflies. The same anxiety.. every, fucking, night... I can remember the way he looked. I can remember the way he tried to stand. I CAN REMEMBER EVERY FUCKING SCENE, DAY, LIVE ACTION HE MADE. EVERY EFFORT TO TALK. MOVE. BREATHE. but i cannot remember his healthy, father-like, self. Sometimes I dream about his laugh... and I wake up feeling its echo bouncing off the walls of my room. I wish I could be comforted by it outside of my dreams. Losing someone is hard. Losing someone who is sick is even harder. Because when they go..when they hit a point where they are very sick...its as if its a different person. I want to remember my dad.. but sometimes its a curse that the only memories I find of my father are of him sick, and weak, and helpless.. I can feel the life just slipping out of me. I stood on a building the other night. Joking about jumping. I wish I was joking. I think im going to throw up. I think Im going to throw up. I think. I think. i think...