Daddy.

I just need to vent a little. Because for the past few months, I’ve been holding a lot of stuff in that I haven’t really told anyone. And after watching a movie tonight that made me think about the past few months, I’ve been crying and wanting to tell someone about my feelings. So I guess I’ll let them out on Mibba.

Ever since my dad passed away last year, I haven’t been the same person. Sure, around my friends, family and boyfriend, I look extremely happy and outgoing, but when I go home and go to bed, I cry myself to sleep almost every night. After you lose your father, it’s like a huge part of you is missing and you spend every night trying to get that part of you back. My father was one of my best friends, the best dad anyone could ever ask for, and to know that he’s going to miss a lot of my life kills me. Every morning I wake up by myself, in an empty house, when he’s usually the one that wakes me up and gives me a cup of Mountain Dew, because that’s what he did. It was our routine, and to know that I can’t ever do that again makes me want to just not get up in the mornings because he’s not there. I’ve missed so much school because I have NO motivation whatsoever to even go. I don’t feel like seeing people and I just want to stay in bed all day and cry, holding onto the Build-A-Bear I made to represent him.

He won’t be able to see me graduate, or watch me go to my first class in college. Or watch me go to my first day at my first job. He won’t be able to see me get married - he won’t be able to walk me down the isle. And that’s what every daughter wants, and that’s been taken away from me. He won’t even get to meet his grandkids. He never got to meet my boyfriend, who he would’ve liked very much. It just KILLS ME.

Knowing that it’s my fault that he’s dead kills me, too. And I hate it when people try to tell me it’s not my fault, but it is. You weren’t there. You don’t know. I ignored him, and I want to kill myself for that, but I won’t because I know my mother needs me, and so does my brother, my friends and my boyfriend. They’re all way too important to me to do that.

Because of all of this, I’ve become extremely bipolar, or at least I think I am. My boyfriend gets scared of me sometimes when I get angry over the smallest things. I won’t just yell - I’ll hit him, push him away and throw things, causing him to cry sometimes. I hate that I’m like that, but I honestly can’t help it. I’m angry that my father isn’t here anymore.

Even eight months later, I can’t get the image out of my mind, of him in the hospital bed looking at me like he didn’t even know me. It hurt me, and it hasn’t stopped hurting me. Knowing that I couldn’t say goodbye - well I could - but he couldn’t understand what I was saying - makes me want to just go spend the night at his grave and tell him everything I’ve been wanting to tell him.

I can’t get him off of my mind - he’s all I think about.

I miss him. And I just want him back for two minutes, in perfect condition, so I can hold him and tell him I love him twenty times, while sitting in his lap. I want to watch NASCAR with him, make brownies with him, and I want to go bowling with him just ONE MORE TIME, because I can’t let him go.

I’ll never let him go.