“weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning.”‭‭Psalms‬ ‭30:5‬ ‭KJV‬‬

Im waiting, waiting for the morning to come when I wake up feeling more myself.

Im exhausted, tired of the same old. Same old people, same old routine, same job, same house, same “friends”. 

I miss you so much daddy. Home, this city, no longer feels like home without you. You were the one reason I stayed, fearful of the day that you’d get sick and pass and I wouldn’t be here. But I was here, and I’m still here. Still living in the sorrow of yesterday. Unable to feel anything because when I feel, I feel pain. I remember you in every inch of this house, in this city. Even with all the changes the mall has gone through I still remember the memories I have with you there. 

The smallest things set me off, going to a gas station you and I stopped at. Our old home. The superstore that the first jack ass kid made fun of you at. It took everything I had in me not to go there and kill him. 

I miss you the most at work. When I see daughters with their dads. Grandkids with their grandpas and elderly couples. Why weren’t we lucky enough to be able to have you still? Why did you have to get sick. Why did you leave?

I thought I was so strong, that I understood and that I was accepting. But I’m not. 

I don’t understand, I don’t understand why out of all the people in the world you had to get sick. Why your life was taken. Why mom is a widower at 53, why Jen and I don’t have a dad. Why? 

No one in the world is perfect but you didn’t deserve this. 

Nothing is going right, nothing feels normal. I’m so numb to the world around me. I myself am tired of living. I don’t have much fight left in me, everything I wish for is so far out of my reach. I feel like I’d be better off dead. I have more people I love in heaven then I do here.. 

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