The week my dad died. I tell you, I felt like I didn’t even exist. I remember I just slept. I woke up when we had to go to the funeral home to do paperwork, pay, deliver clothes for my dad to be put in, and seeing him for the last time before he was sent to Bosnia (where we’re from) to be buried. I maybe ate once a day, if that. I just was so numb. My brother didn’t even cry once. Till maybe a couple week later when we were watching family videos, and my dad was in them. He cried so hard. It broke my heart. We all just sat there crying, and my mom was trying to comfort my brother. I tell you, it was such a horrible time. Apparently everyone thought I was going crazy for not crying all of the time or showing any emotion, and even coming back to work. I was so done at this point in my life. I didn’t think, I didn’t feel, I just was going through motions. When I broke up with the cheater, it was the best day of my life. I felt so free. Did whatever the fuck I wanted, and felt AMAZING. No one knew what was going on with me. To be honest, I didn’t either. Like i said, I was numb. For a long time. Then it started to hit me later that my dad was gone. Some days were good, some were bad but just like today, I have my sad moments and keep on keeping on. What else am i gonna do? Cancer killed him. I’d be lying if I said he’d be better off alive today with it. He hated life, I could see it in him, and being told if you want to live longer, the only way that was going to happen was to be on a feeding tube, a breathing tube, and a tube in your private parts to go to the bathroom. Who the fuck wants to live like that? NO ONE. So am I mad at God? no. Not even close. Am i mad at myself for leaving the hospital? Yes. I will always regret that decision, and part of me will always feel like my dad dying was my fault. Will I be okay? Yup, always am. I just gotta keep on keepin on.