Like what the fuck. He’s just GONE. He is gone. I will never ever talk to him again. I understood death before. Death and loss are so different. He is gone, I have LOST him. I cannot comprehend this, I don’t want to. I can’t wrap head around this. My dad is GONE. I keep looking, and asking, and begging, but he’s just gone. There were so many hugs and conversations. There was so much left. There are bags packed now that will forever sit by my front door. They are full of “where did you go?” And “why?” I just can’t figure this one out.
For her, it’s been burning. For him, it’s finally igniting.
( And actually his candle is already low and a liiittttle bit lit, implying the love was always there, burning so low as to not be noticed, but surely burning nonetheless 🔥♥️ )
Out of the blue it hits me that my dad is gone and I’ll never speak to him again. It’s the most sudden and instantaneous scooping and hollowing out of oneself. Everything dumped out like the innards of a pumpkin. There’s my heart, a seeded pulpy splat on an unwanted newspaper.