gone, gone, gone


In the last week or so two of my Dads best friends lost their Dads. One was just last night. I’ve been crying when I let myself, and sometimes when I don’t.

My Dads Uncle is in the hospital, he may not make it out again, I’m preparing myself, so is my Grandmother, his sister. I talked with him a lot on Easter, I didn’t know then what I think I’m knowing now.

Last night I dreamed a lot more then I should have, about love lost, about emotions I miss. I feel things I don’t mean to feel.
We cry for how happy things were before, as much as we cry about things we’re too afraid to talk about.

But isn’t that the root of all of this? The bittersweet, love’s hand in pain, life’s hand in death…
I forget things can end so quickly. I’ve been remembiering.

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