the things you can't forget
Today it dawned on me that most of the people that cross my mind on a daily basis when I'm alone are people I no longer speak to. People I miss. People I haven't met. People I've met and let go of. And then there's a separate group of people I'm still directly connected to, people who are close but so distant. I miss my dad. I miss his seemingly never-ending knowledge of overly useless things (this is coming from 10 year old me, to this day I'm not sure if my dad was really a human encyclopedia, or if 10 year old me was easily impressed). Of all the time I spent with my dad, I don't think there was a single time I had a question go unanswered. I thought he was the smartest person I had ever met. A part of me still does, I think. I like to keep the memory of him that way, before it all went awry. The last time I spoke with him I sent him a message that said "how are you?" instead of sending a message that said "because of the way things are, it's really difficult to tell you that I love you, but I will always love you because you're my dad."
I miss old friends. I miss old coworkers.
I miss believing in a higher power to take care of things. I miss myself before the constant wave of disasters. I miss routines. I miss simplicity and climbing up my neighbor's mango tree.
I miss old friends. I miss old coworkers.
I miss believing in a higher power to take care of things. I miss myself before the constant wave of disasters. I miss routines. I miss simplicity and climbing up my neighbor's mango tree.