I was just watching the video my uncle made in memory of my dad.
It brings me to tears everytime.
And I want to cry.
Yet I’m so tired of crying.
I oddly enough, even though it makes me so sad, love the video of my dad. Because it reminds of me of him, and I’m so afraid to forget him.
I look at these pictures of him, and him with me and Alexander and Mom, and I feel so bad because he didn’t know then that my mom would divorce him and a few years later he would die.
It’s not fair to him, or to me. Or to the rest of my family. I hate not knowing what happened. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it.
And as I sit down here and secretly cry, maybe my Mom is upstairs secretly crying as well.
I miss him, and I love him. But that’s not going to bring him back. So I have to keep him alive in my memory.
I have to remember what he looked like, what he smelled like, how it felt when he hugged me, the sound of his voice, and how he told me he loved me.
I’m so afraid to forget.
Happy canada day everbody!
so Ive been doing pretty good lately. I know, its been forever. deal with it.
i love all of canada :)
from sea unto sea
true north strong and freee
I’m afraid of myself…
If I was afraid of, say, spiders, I could just avoid spiders. But how do I avoid MYSELF? It’s always there. The constant fear.
Because… Well because I can’t tell if I’m real. I can’t trust myself. I’m afraid of myself commiting suicide. I’m afraid of my lack of self-control.
What is real, anyway?
New site and title and everything. Learning to play.
Learning to play this weird thing called life :)
