Today is the one year anniversary of my dad's death. I didn't remember when I first woke up or when I was on my way to work. I didn't remember when I was having coffee with some friends. I didn't remember until I was leaving the coffee shop and one of my friends reminisced that her mother passed away when she was very young. That ten minute walk between the coffee shop and work was excruciating. My throat was replaced by a lump.
I got to work and proceeded to cry at my desk. I've been trying my damn hardest to relax, but it's tough. I messaged my sister and we've been chatting a bit, but she stayed home today. I wish I had.
I think I'm getting better though, a little more under control at least. But focus, I have none. Being here is pretty stupid. I'd rather be having shots somewhere.
I would love to write about my dad and good things. It hurts too much. I miss him too much.
I know wishing is useless, but I wish he wasn't gone. I miss him so much.