Court Date Changed

This week, so far, has been challenging. I was driving to work and my car lost acceleration and had the error “engine power reduced” start flashing. So, almost got into an accident because of that.

The guy that killed dad had a pretrial hearing. I was unable to go to it because of work and car issues. Mom said the guy walked into the court room like he was king of the world. His lawyer told the judge they would not be ready for the set court date and asked for an extension. The judge gave a new court date.

A fear I have is, just because this guy has money, he is going to get away with killing dad.

I do know my depression medication is helping. I was able to talk to someone about what happened to dad – I did feel the sting of tears and I did hear my voice crack, but I did not break down. I have been debating with myself if I made the right choice of not viewing his body – which, I think I did but sometimes I do wonder if it was the right choice.

 

 

If You Want Me To

Something odd. Since I’ve been taking medication for depression, I’ve had a different vibe with my ex-husband.

For example, he came to drop our daughter off the other day and he stayed and talked for almost thirty minutes. This has happened a couple of times. Each time, I find myself inching towards the door ready to end the conversation, but he continues to talk.

Another situation, our daughter has raised chickens for the past five years to show. I’ve always been the one raising the chickens at my house. I am tired of having chickens. I asked ex if he wanted to raise chickens this year. His response, “If you want me to.” I’m thinking “what the hell?” I told him that it did not matter either way, but I was done raising chickens. He said he would go ahead and raise them this year. The whole time I’m thinking “isn’t there someone you should be talking to?” I mean, he lives at girlfriend’s house. You would think he would say “let me discuss this with girlfriend.”

Maybe I’m overthinking it all – as usual. Maybe this is what co-parenting is supposed to be like. It’s just completely odd and not something I’m used to.

Time and Healing

**TRIGGER WARNING**

Everyone hears the saying: Time heals everything.

I know when I first got divorced, or right after dad’s death everyone told me “to give it time. You will heal over time.”

In the moment, you want to scream and cry. You want to call bullshit.

When I got divorced, I believed my world had completely crashed around me. I thought I was making the biggest mistake of my life. I had regrets about divorcing my ex for YEARS!!

I fell into a deep depression. I was physically ill for a few months. I did not function. I finally hit rock bottom and downed all the pills I could find in my house.

I knew I needed help, but ironically there was no one there to help me. I was so scared to go to the doctor. My biggest fear was they would take away my daughter.

I want to say the saying is true. If you’d asked me a couple of years ago if I should have divorced my ex I would have said I’m not sure. Today, I know I made the right choice. I know a part of me still cares about him – not sure if it is because he is the father of my child; he was my first; I’d been with him for 15 years. Another part of me is so happy when I do not have to deal with him.

I know over time it will get easier. I’m hoping the same is true with my dad’s death.

The guy that killed my dad has a court date coming up soon. They are going to see if there is enough evidence to take him to trial for killing dad. Another fear of mine – dad and the entire family will not get justice.

I know there is no set time frame.

Just like with online dating, the first few times I got stood up or ghosted I was so hurt. Now, you ghost me and I block you. No second chances.

Time also makes you wiser. I have learned many life lessons throughout my life, especially over the past six years.

One lesson I learned from was about my depression. I did not want the same thing to happen again, so I talked to my doctor this time.

Hard Day

It’s been really tough the past couple of days. I really miss my dad. I look at pictures and relive the day of his death over and over. I have fought back tears for two days. I feel so alone. I want to talk about him. There’s no one to talk to. If I talk to my mom about him she starts crying. I want a sign that he is still around and watching over us.

I just think about everything I should have done and said. I think about everything he is going to miss in my life and my daughter’s life. Small things like never getting a text from him again, or never talking with him. To bigger things like when I get married, he won’t be there. I won’t have him to walk me down the aisle. I will never get to have a daughter/dad dance. I didn’t get to at my first wedding either. I always told myself I would dance with my dad at my next wedding.

I was chatting with a couple of people about ghosting – and other “joys” of online dating. One sent me a song – Make Him Wait. I started to listen to the song and had to turn it off. It talked about making the date wait at the door to meet your dad. Another part talked about dad walking you down the aisle on your wedding day.

I’m sure the tough days are normal. I am stretched so thin these days. I am working several hours with all three jobs. Sleep is a joke these days.

I switched medication for my depression. The first medication made me so tired. So, the doctor switched me to something to give me more energy. I guess I’m still adjusting to it. I sleep maybe three hours and then I’m up.

Loneliness

The other day my mom called me. She was watching the news and there was a car accident where I lived. So, she was calling to make sure it wasn’t me in the accident.

During our conversation, I could tell when her mood changed. It went from talking about good and pleasant things to depression and loneliness.

She asked me “how do you deal with the loneliness?”

Keep in mind that my mom married my dad when she was 16. She’d been with him for 35 years. This “loneliness” is a brand new life for her.

I remember dealing with the loneliness when I first stopped seeing my ex-husband. Days that he had our daughter, I spent hours staring at a wall. Sitting in the dark. Crying. Not functioning. Completely lost.

Everyone expected me to be fine. I was the one that filed for divorce. I should have been fine with the outcome. The loneliness.

I knew my mom wanted an answer. I did my best. I responded “You learn to live with the new normal.” Dad is never coming back. As hard as it is to think about, it is true. We can not go back into time and prevent his death.

That was the best I could describe it. I understand she is lonely. I understand she lost her soul mate. I never imaged that I would be the one having to comfort and give my mom knowledge about hard life lessons.

Now, I’m not going to lie… the loneliness is hard. But the truth is you adapt. You seriously do learn how to live in the new normal. You find things to keep your self busy. You find people to talk to. You enjoy your time with yourself.

The truth is, I’m not lonely anymore. I enjoy my me time. I would like to be in a relationship, but I’m not trying very hard to find one. I don’t mind being alone.

Dating Dilemma

I was thinking about this yesterday: my dating dilemma.

With Valentine’s Day right around the corner you can’t go anywhere without being reminded of the holiday – there’s all the commercials, posts on social media, the stores are proudly displayed of gifts, candy, and subtle reminders.

I’ve never liked the holiday. I get the history of the holiday – liked learning about that – but I mean today it seems like it is a game to see who’s lover displays their love the best.

When I was married, it was ironic… Ex would bitch about my weight and then buy me a box of chocolates on Valentine’s Day.

Okay, I digress.

It is hard to believe that in April will mark one year since I’ve been on a date. April will also mark one year since I’ve had sex.

Okay, Okay… I’ve gone longer than a year before. After I finished with ex, it was eighteen months before I had sex with the guy from online – those who’ve read my past posts will remember this is the guy I knew for less than two weeks and then he ghosted me. At the time, I was so angry with myself. How could I throw logic and common sense out the window?!? I went to a guy’s house that I did not know – and no one knew where I was. I had unprotected sex with him. I absolutely HATED myself for that stupid stunt!! Ironically, eighteen months later I found the serial dater – another guy I have written many posts about – and had sex with him. Even though I hate that I ignored the red flags with the serial dater, I did stay smart about the situation – someone had an idea of where I was, and we always used protection.

I’m actually tired of the dating apps. I spend more time blocking guys then I actually do chatting with anyone. There’s the one that I’ve been chatting with, but he’s gone silent too. I’m sure he will resurface. But, honestly, I don’t care either way. It’s nice to have someone to chat with about random things, but I’m definitely not going to chase him.

So, I know what you are thinking: if you’re tired of the online dating sites, then delete them. True, true. But I live in a small town. So, without the apps I really don’t see me ever going on a date again. ha-ha.

Reflecting

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So, I’m on day three of my depression medication. It makes me tired as hell. I am actually sleeping at night though. I take it at night – if not, I would not function during the day. I am actually sleeping more than two hours at a time. I’ve been prescribed sleeping pills before and they were a high dose before I was able to go to sleep, but they left me feeling completely confused. On the sleeping pills, I would wake up with no clue where I was. With the depression medications, I wake up alert and focused. My mind is clear. Right now that is what I’ve really noticed with the medication. I’ve been on medication for anxiety and I felt stoned and like my mind was a complete fog. Like I said, with this depression medication, I feel alert and focused but I don’t feel weird. However, it is still really early in the prescription.

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I’ve been thinking about the thought of counseling. I think at my doctor appointment in three weeks, I am going to go ahead and get some information. At least see how much it will cost me. I mean, I think counseling would be a good thing. I think anyone’s office that I walk into is going to have a field day and think WHERE THE HELL  HAVE YOU BEEN FOR SO LONG?!? (I mean, not just with my dad’s death, but my divorce, self injuring/harming thoughts, eating issues, body image, and the list can go on and on.)

Concerns… Of course, money. But I heard someone else started counseling and their insurance increased $300 a year. I can’t afford that.

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Take the Picture

Christmas is less than two weeks away. Hard to believe, I know. This year is going to be insanely hard not having my dad here. I still can’t believe he is gone. I guess I still expect to get a text or a call from him. I expect to drive to my parents’ house for Christmas and see my dad sitting in his chair watching some educational program. I have to keep telling myself, and reminding myself that dad is gone.

Ironically, when I got divorced I told myself in five years I will be better off. Things will work out for the better. Well, it is five years down the road. I’m still single. Not even chatting with anyone. I still struggle with money. My ex is engaged. My dad is gone. My family is falling apart. Maybe next year will be better…

Last night I did something very difficult. I went through my photos, including watching the slideshow that played at my dad’s funeral. I cried the whole time. He was so happy in every picture. He loved life. I spent hours putting the pictures together into a photo book – I am having it printed online as a hardback full color book. It is sized 5×7 and has over 40 pages. Some pages have one picture. Some pages have seven pictures. I wanted all the pictures of my dad. I want more pictures, there would never be enough pictures…

I noticed a pattern over the years. In the beginning of my marriage, there were more family pictures. As my marriage started going down hill, there were less pictures of my family. My ex hated driving to our families houses. Then after my divorce, I lied to my family for two years. They didn’t know I was still sleeping with my ex. I didn’t know I was still wanting to be with him.

The past three years, I have struggled with money. My car has been a piece of shit. My dad’s health was getting worse. All of these factors made it where we seen each other less and less. I was only driving down maybe three to five times a year. They never drove up to see us. This year, 2018, was a horrible year. Things never worked out like they were supposed to. I don’t have a single picture of my dad from 2018 – that I took. There is not a single picture of my dad with me nor my daughter from 2018.

So, my words of advice: Take the picture.

I don’t care if you are fighting or upset. I don’t care if you just rolled out of bed. I don’t care if you suffer from depression and haven’t brushed your hair in three days. I don’t care if you want to lose weight.

Doesn’t matter!!

Take the picture. Be in the moment. Don’t take for granted that you will get to see your loved ones next week, next month, or even next year. Because you never know.

This year it is going to be hard to take the picture. There is going to be a missing piece, forever – my dad. I don’t know what drama the holiday will bring – drama within my family or drama with my ex.

But, bottom line is we’re going to have to continue on. We’re going to have to turn to each other for support. We’re going to have to live life like my dad lived his – happy, compassionate, and always smiling. He was always ready to take the picture.

Torture

Past couple of days have been torture. I still cry when I think about what happened. I still cry when I see his pictures. I still cry when I think about everything he is going to miss in my life and my daughter’s life. But it’s like I am torturing myself now. I am thinking about things that I can not change. I am wishing I’d called more, texted more, visited more. Remember the series Quantum Leap? I’m wishing life was like that and Sam would leap into our life and keep my dad here. My mom posted something about she wished they’d took a sick day that day then dad would still be here. We all are torturing ourselves right now, I guess. Then I think, maybe things happened exactly how they were supposed to. If my dad hadn’t been the car that man hit, then he would have hit the car that rear-ended dad. So, the man would have killed someone else. He would have destroyed another family. Maybe that person just had a baby or recently married. So, maybe dad saved another person. Saved another family. My family are fighters. We are ready for the fight it is going to take to put this guy away. There are going to be multiple lawsuits dealing with insurance and money. Plus, there are going to two separate criminal charges. This fight is going to take up to three years. I know my family is ready for this heartbreaking challenge.

I found a necklace that I ordered for myself. My daughter told ex about a necklace that she wanted. Ex asked her if it was a gift for me. She said no. Ex told her that in that case it could wait. He said he would “maybe get it. Sometime. lol” That is not funny! How dare he behave like that! He apparently never even asked my daughter how she was during the entire time she was over there. WHAT A PIECE OF SHIT. He is a “good dad” to girlfriend’s kids. My daughter pays the price. She had to go to their basketball games all weekend, and she got none of her homework done. How can this be okay?

So, I bought her the necklace. I helped her with her homework.

Ex is fucking up. I am tired of cleaning up his mess with our daughter.

Yesterday was my daughter’s band concert. Ex asked her if she was singing at the Christmas concert. – I don’t know if he thought she was in choir, or if he was trying to be funny. But it really annoyed my daughter.

The concert was hard. I’d invited my parents to come a few weeks ago. They were planning on coming. No one planned on dad being gone. I sat alone. Surrounded by all these couples and families. I fought back tears. Ex brought girlfriend and her kids. I fought back anger. Girlfriend texted my daughter during the concert. WHAT THE HELL? Why is she now trying to be friends with my daughter. Why didn’t she make an offer four years ago when ex was screwing both of us?!?

After the concert, we went out to eat. Of course, they were there too. Luckily, I didn’t have to look at them.

A Tribute and a Funeral

On Tuesday, I took a couple of hours to write a tribute for my dad:

November 30, 2018 is a date that I will never forget. I have spent the past few days trying to collect myself and find the right words to express my love for an amazing person.

That morning I received a phone call from my mom, which was odd since it was about 7:30am on a workday, I was working so could not answer the phone, and quite honestly I assumed it was a butt dial. Dad would butt dial me often, and when I would call him back he would sheepishly admit it was an accident. We would laugh then he would wish me a good day and we would exchange “I love you.”

This call was not a butt dial. A voicemail notification appeared on my phone – to this day that notification is still on my phone. I have not brought myself to listen to the message. Mom also sent me a text message. I did not open the text, but I saw a few words as it scrolled across the top part of the screen: “Dad” “accident” and “bad.”

I called my mom. She answered the phone; her voice cracked “Dad didn’t make it.” I was floored. Shock knocked me to my knees. I shouted “What?!?” into the phone. It took me a couple of minutes to realize what was really happening. When it hit me, I sobbed.

Once I started crying, I really didn’t stop.

Actually, I still cry.

I want to thank everyone that has messaged me and offered kind words. I want to thank the ones that have allowed me to cry with them and on their shoulder. I want to tell those that really do not know what to say or do, it is okay. We are still friends. Honestly, I don’t really know what to say or do either. So, if you have felt uncomfortable and avoided me, it is okay. I do not think any less of you and there are definitely no hard feelings.

It still seems surreal. I know right now I’m running on exhaustion and grief. I know tomorrow, his funeral, will be the hardest day of my life. I know it is going to be a gorgeous ceremony. I know he is going to be so pleased with everything – all the family and friends, music, decorations, and most of all the fact that there will be a bagpipe player there. One request my dad always made for his funeral was to have Amazing Grace played on the bagpipes.

For those that never got to meet my dad, he was an amazing person. He had a big smile that would brighten your day. He had bright eyes, and when he wore blue his eyes would shine even brighter. He was shy at first, but once you got to know him he was goofy and a tad of a chatterbox. He loved to laugh. He was easily embarrassed. During family gatherings, we would share stories – “Pepsi feet,” “the corn story,” “damn peanut,” and “steak” – (just to recall a few) where dad was the focus of the story, he would laugh and blush.

He was the hardest working person I’ve ever met. He had problems with his back, but he would still go to work and mow and weed eat around the school and would never once complain. He would brag about his fun toys at work. He loved being outside. He absolutely loved his job and his coworkers. He was a volunteer firefighter. My dad was the type that he would help anyway he could. He loved getting to help others.
He loved his family. He started his family young. He was 21 years old when I was born. When he became a Pappy he was so proud and excited. When I was pregnant, he was so worried he would not be able pronounce my daughter’s name – I remember him telling me he would just call her by her middle name. Once she was born, he was able to say her first name with ease. She loved Pappy.

She regrets deleting his text messages before his passing, which I do too. She regrets not making deviled eggs for Pappy for Thanksgiving this year, which we would only make them for Christmas, but Pappy loved her deviled eggs.

Pappy loved food and loved to cook. Growing up, I remember he would try new recipes – several times he would just throw whatever together, most of the time it turned out really good. However, there were times when he didn’t feel like cooking. One summer, he fixed corn dogs for us most of the summer. The “summer of corn dogs” was another story shared quite often.

My dad loved music. Even though his hearing was getting worse, he would just turn up the music. He would gladly listen to new songs and bands. He would close his eyes and tap his foot and really get lost in the song. Growing up we had a chicken house. We would have music blaring while we gathered eggs. Back then the bands were mainly rock bands. Dad would sing and dance. He told me once that if it didn’t make your eardrums bleed, then it wasn’t good music. Of course, over the years his taste in music did mellow out. I took his words to heart. I am still a fan of metal and rock music because of him. I still listen to the 80’s hair bands because of him, too.

Dad loved movies and TV. We might have traumatized my youngest brother once while watching a marathon of Tales from the Crypt. My brother started doing the Crypt keeper’s laugh. We would joke about that often. We would watch Jeopardy. My dad was so smart. He loved knowledge. He would provide random facts and information. He loved learning about myths and history.

He hated confrontation. However, if you needed him, he had your back. He was so accepting. He would not judge. He never had a mean thing to say about anyone. He wanted what was best for his family. He wanted us to be happy.

At my wedding, he was completely supportive. He stood there holding onto my arm waiting to give me away. He being there kept me from running away. Even though my marriage ended in divorce, I got my daughter because of it. So, for that I am glad my dad kept me there.

My dad had a black belt in Taekwondo. I made it to green belt, but quit because I got stuck with the nickname “powder puff” from the instructor. My dad was awesome with the martial arts. Because of him, I would do Taekwondo routines for talent competitions at pageants. We spent so much time coming up with a routine to “Saint Elmo’s Fire.” I remember preforming the routine at the pageant and spacing out. I went through the entire routine and the ending included a flying side kick with a yell. That yell brought me back into the moment. I told dad and he said that was how it was supposed to be.

He always was supportive. He helped haul my horses to shows. Even the time I accidentally rolled a horse onto the front of his truck, he still supported me. He would ride with us. My last horse, Dandy, my dad hated that horse, but he would still help me catch him. I remember dad getting on the tractor one time just to help me corner that crazy yellow horse in a corner of the pen. Dad even made half the backyard into a smaller pen just for Dandy so I would not spend hours chasing that rotten palomino through the pen for each show, playdate, and rodeo. Dad loved animals. Growing up, we always had a house cat. Dad would make those cats so mean. They would hid and attack you as you walked through the house. He would always pet our dogs and cats.

I got an open memorial tattoo for my dad several years ago – I never in my wildest dreams thought I would be completing that tattoo this soon. I showed him my tattoo and he was so happy. He loved it. He had to touch it, and he commented on how well done it was – smooth and no blow outs. Now, I am so glad I got that tattoo when I did. Even though it is going to be so hard finishing it, I am so happy Dad got to see his tattoo. And I will always have him right there on my arm, and by my side.

My dad was a rock. He was so strong and supportive. I only remember seeing him show a moment of weakness twice. Once, when his mother lost her battle to cancer, and the second was when the chicken house burned down. Other than those two moments, my dad always loved life. He would want all of us to do the same. I know tomorrow there are going to be tears when we all say our final goodbyes, but I know he understands.

I am heartbroken that I do not have a single picture of my dad from 2018. This year has been weird. We always take a family photo on Mother’s Day. This year, I ended up being at the ER on Mother’s Day so when I got to their house I did not want to do anything but sit there – I regret it, I know. I know he would have been to every event, game, and activity that my daughter had if we did not live so far away, but his back prevented him from making the trip and sitting on the bleachers. I understood. Thanksgiving this year was rough. The visit wasn’t the visit it should have been. Once again, no family pictures were taken. Honestly, no hugs, “I love you”’s, or goodbyes were exchanged because of situations from that day. My daughter and I regret that so much. I never imagined that would be the last time I would see my dad, or she would see her Pappy. For that, I really hope can forgive us both. Which, I know he does. My dad was so understanding, forgiving, and compassionate. He probably would make some joke or sheepish comment to make us laugh and to show he forgives us. My daughter also cried because she was so sad that she never gave him a hug goodbye. I had to tell her the story about my grandmother – my dad’s mom – who passed when I was seven. I couldn’t bring myself to give her a hug the last time I seen her. I did not want her to see me cry, and so she passed without me getting to tell her “I love you” and giving her a hug. So, I told my daughter that is how this family rolls. We don’t want sappy goodbyes. We want to celebrate life and joke around with each other.

Because of my dad’s character, I know he would not want us to be angry about the accident. It is hard not to have hate for the man that hit dad’s car. It is hard not to have hate that we lost the most amazing man there ever was. But, I know dad would not want that. He would want us to enjoy life and to remember the good. One thing I have learned from my divorce is, hate doesn’t change anything. You can be angry, but it isn’t going to change anything. Hate isn’t going to make me less divorced, and hate isn’t going to bring my dad back. Hate will just consume you. Hate will hide the sorrow and grief, but will not get rid of it. Hate will make you lash out. Hate will make you become someone you do not recognize. My dad would never want any of us to be like that.

I miss my dad. I find myself thinking about everything he is going to miss – my daughter turning 13 this month, if and when I get married again, every game and band concert, everything. I know holidays are never going to be the same. This year is going to be so hard. We already have our tree up and gifts under it. We bought my parents a gift several months ago. It is already wrapped and under the tree. I find myself looking at it and not knowing if we should rewrap it or leave it. I also find myself realizing it is an amazing gift, even though when I bought it I did not realize it, but it is going to bring comfort.

Thank you for taking the time to read about my dad.

To my dad, I want to say: I love you. I have always had so much love and respect for you; even though there were times that I seemed distant. You made a big impact on me and my daughter. I will always treasure our chats and stories. I will miss you and I know a piece of my heart is shattered and missing without you here, but I am strong.
Love you forever, Sis.

****

I went back and forth about inviting ex to the funeral. I did invite him. He came.

Yesterday was my dad’s funeral. I did really well at the beginning of the day. I made the drive still feeling okay.

I walked into the funeral home and I seen the slideshow playing and I lost it. I had to be alone and cry. I gathered myself and emerged back where the family was sitting before the service. As soon as I seen people I started crying again.

Walking into the funeral was so hard. I did not go to the visitation. For the family, the visitation was open casket. I did not want to see my father like that. I did not want that to be the last image I had of him. So, seeing his casket at the front of the room and his favorite hat laying on top with this big display of red roses, I sobbed again. All of us cried. There was a big turn out. My dad was so well liked. There was about 150 people there. Granted when we had to walk out, I didn’t look at any of them. I kept my eyes down.

When we went to the cemetery, there was a bagpipe player. I took pictures. I did really good at the cemetery until the bagpipe player played Amazing Grace. Then I collected myself again. Then the firefighters did a “final call” for my dad. – If you are not familiar with this, what happens is: They radio for the person. Then silence. They radio again. Then silence. The third time they radio they call the person by name. – At the moment of silence I half expected to hear my dad’s voice. I expected this to be a sick joke. I expected to wake up from this nightmare. No, just silence. – Then they did a “10-7,” which is a “out of service at” code.

People walked by and hugged us. My ex came to the funeral. He walked up to me and gave me a hug. I bear hugged him and I could not stop crying. I buried my face into ex’s coat and cried. It felt like forever. I know it really was only a minute or two. I felt him try to pull away. It did make me giggle.

After most of the crowd was gone, ex and his mom came up to me and my daughter. Ex took a picture of my daughter and myself next to my dad’s casket. Then his mom started asking me questions: how bad was your dad cut up? did your mom get to talk to him.

I had to give ex the look: “you better get her away from me.” He took the hint. He gave me another hug and they left.

I tried finding a support group locally. Haven’t found a group. All of them stopped meeting for December and the holidays. So, I found a group online. I think I found an awesome group. I was greeted with open arms. I posted my story and introduction and I read through each of their comments. I felt better.

My daughter asked if talking about dad was the best thing to do. She asked if talking about him would not make me more sad. No, talking about him makes me so happy. He was a wonderful man, I want to tell everyone about him. Yes, I cry thinking about him. But I want to talk about him.

I have two people that I plan on contacting when I start to feel like talking on the phone. Both of them have known me forever – we all went to school together – but we haven’t talked in many years. But both of them have lost both of their parents. So, I want to talk to someone that understands.

There is a third person that I plan on contacting. Anyone that has read all of my posts will remember this guy. I have a major crush on him. I have had a crush on him since high school. He wants to do friends with benefits but we live five hours apart. But, he was in the military. I have talked to him on the phone and he was cried. So, I know I can let myself cry and talk to him without making him feel awkward.

Lots of people don’t know what to say or do around me. They say “I’m sorry” and walk away. I completely get that. But, I need someone I can cry around. I need someone that will listen to me.

***

I finally listened to the voicemail from my mom. That notification has been on my phone since Friday morning. I finally brought myself to listen to it. She was telling me that my dad was gone.

I am glad I did not listen to that voicemail on Friday. I could not imagine finding out that I lost my dad from a voicemail.

It took so long from me to bring myself to listen to that message because I knew what the message was going to be, but I did not know how much information it would provide.