I miss him. I miss him so much, it’s like a barrel is resting on my shoulders.
And I miss his love. His laughter. And the way he used to wrap me in his arms after a golf win.
But more importantly, I miss the person I used to be before the pain of losing him stole that from me.
Somedays, when I look in the mirror, I don’t even recognize myself. It’s like I stare into my own eyes, and I’m forced to carry the weight of their past tears. I put my hand to my heart to feel it beat, and then I remember how scarred she must be after years of having to endure the level of grief that could kill someone.
And, yet, the world still continues on. The clock still changes. It’s almost as if the universe is taunting me with its viciousness because it recognizes that it has my body in its grip. Hell, it takes one good look at me and grins because it knows the hold it has on me can never, truly go away. That no matter how much I grow and evolve, there will still always be that 14.5 year old version of Dylan who had no choice to but to figure out how to live her life with the loss of her father always one step behind her.
Five years. It’s been five years since I’ve heard his voice in the present time. Five years of silently falling apart and coming undone. Five years of only getting the chance to see him in dreams I’m eventually gonna have to awake from.
And, yeah, I can fight it with all I’ve got, but I lose. Every time. And I’ll continue to lose in the future, despite how hard I plea for just one more… minute with him.
I don’t deserve this, this pain that I know oh so well.
And I know that it isn’t fair and that it shouldn’t be like this, but I also know that there is nothing I can do to change anything. No prayers, no pleas—it won’t bring him back to me.
So that is why I have learned that allowing myself to fall into those traps only hurts me more than it helps me, and God knows I don’t have the energy for that.
At least, not this time around.
We Got This 