Some nights for no good reason and out of nowhere I miss my father. He's not coming back. And I know that, obviously. I've known it since the moment my mom told me he died (I hate that word). Except I have these nights where it suddenly feels like new information. I remember and then there I am in a sobbing heap in the middle of my bed. Does it hurt less? Ever? I didn't even get to say goodbye. So busy chasing my fucking dreams 6000 miles away I didn't even tell him I loved him, or that I forgave him for everything that happened, or that I was sorry for all the things I did. Why didn't I get that chance?
-The Dormouse
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