(no subject)
Im waiting for it to hit me that he is really gone.
I keep advoiding the subject. I try not to think about it.
I smoke and drink and keep talking so my mind cant think.
But its gonna happen. I feel it. Im gonna realize that he is gone and Im gonna go through this fit in my room.
Im angry at him for this.
Im angry that I tried to make our last days together a good one, that I tried to make every phone call go well so that we wouldnt fight, and he had to fuck that up.
Im angry that he did this, was being so fucking selfish that he overdosed and took to much meds and killed him self.
I hate how fucking dependant he was.
I leave him for 2 months and he couldnt even take care of him self.
I hate that he wasnt the same.
I hate knowing that if I was there, he wouldnt have done this.
And all I can think about when I think of dad, is a vision of him being all sickly looking and cold and dead in his bed. Great vision isnt it.
I dont want to go to his funeral. I will or I'll hate my self later for it. But right now, I dont want to go. I dont want to be around family thats gonna blame this on me.
I dont want to cry in front of people.
Ugh.
And ever since the night before I got that call. Ive felt heavily watched. That night, Kaydi said she saw a man look into the window and walk away. And it was only for a second. And I asked her questions and the discription seemed to have matched my dad.
I feel like Im gonna see him or something. I dont want to.
But it feels like there is defently something in the house.
And I want it to go away.
I keep advoiding the subject. I try not to think about it.
I smoke and drink and keep talking so my mind cant think.
But its gonna happen. I feel it. Im gonna realize that he is gone and Im gonna go through this fit in my room.
Im angry at him for this.
Im angry that I tried to make our last days together a good one, that I tried to make every phone call go well so that we wouldnt fight, and he had to fuck that up.
Im angry that he did this, was being so fucking selfish that he overdosed and took to much meds and killed him self.
I hate how fucking dependant he was.
I leave him for 2 months and he couldnt even take care of him self.
I hate that he wasnt the same.
I hate knowing that if I was there, he wouldnt have done this.
And all I can think about when I think of dad, is a vision of him being all sickly looking and cold and dead in his bed. Great vision isnt it.
I dont want to go to his funeral. I will or I'll hate my self later for it. But right now, I dont want to go. I dont want to be around family thats gonna blame this on me.
I dont want to cry in front of people.
Ugh.
And ever since the night before I got that call. Ive felt heavily watched. That night, Kaydi said she saw a man look into the window and walk away. And it was only for a second. And I asked her questions and the discription seemed to have matched my dad.
I feel like Im gonna see him or something. I dont want to.
But it feels like there is defently something in the house.
And I want it to go away.