Almost 15 years...

My friend blatantly called me out on some callous comments that I had been making.

Reaction, man! Reaction.. There's a line that has to be drawn I guess.

It's a way to cope. It's a way to fling off the sympathetic looks and the apologies. It happened. It's been a long time.

I'm dealing..

But there are those moments. I can't. That I'm not actually dealing. I feel ill that it might be perceived that my dear dad was less than he was.  Everything I say about him is repetitive. I don't remember more. I cling to these memories. It's all I have. Thirteen is not particularly a solid foundation for more.

He told me he has no idea what I'm going through. Words I haven't heard in a long time because I feel like it's passed.. but ever present. It strikes when I least expect it. Like a random Sunday.

I miss my dad. I miss what might have been. There are memories on the precipice that I am desperately clinging to. I'm afraid to lose them, but they're slipping.

I hate admitting to this. Heck, I don't even know if this makes sense. Guess who doesn't care- oh this guy.

I've now dealt with the immediate shock of the evening. I'm going to bed.

shoot--