Torture

I’m lying in bed listening to sad instrumentals and reminiscing about my father, holding his photo in my hand and staring, remember the love, the bond, everything. I’m tearing up as I write this, I only write in my darkest, deepest hour which is always seemingly at night.

My life is.. repetitive. I partake in the same daily activities, nothing really about my routine has changed yet I have changed as a person immensely.

 

I’m no longer that same girl I was months before my father’s death. No, everything about me has changed. So suddenly, and so swiftly.. Why did I become like this? When did I becomeso..dark.? Have I always been like this without realizing it prior to my father’s passing?

He wasn’t just my father, no he was far more than just that. He was my closest friend, my protector, my mentor, my saviour, my everything. My heart aches at night because I miss him so very much it hurts. The only comfort is my pillow resting under my cheek. My only warmth are the streaks of wet tears rolling down my face, one after the other. I want nothing more than to be reunited with him and the rest of my family in the after life. Only then can we all truly live together, reunited as one. My only wish is that I am worthy enough to be in the same place as he is.

Hell on Earth

I am exposed to children receiving the love from their parents everywhere I go; on subway platforms, the streets, it only makes me remember the one thing I want most but can never have -at least not in this lifetime. It makes me so upset, so frustrated. Everyone seems to have the one thing I so desperately want, yet take advantage of it. For those reading with nuclear families, you won’t ever realize how valuable it is until you lose it, and once it is gone it is gone forever. Cherish it, make beautiful memories, take a lot of pictures and keep them close in your life; if there’s any advise I can offer it is this.

 


 

I’ve matured. I’ve grown, have I prospered and grown for the better? That I do not know. I’ve been acting more carelessly in regards to my unethical habits despite the consequences I will face, though my priorities remain and continue to stand strong. My family, my education, and my morals come before anything; this will never change.

Wasting time isn’t an option. I’ve always been different from people my age; I could never truly enjoy engaging in activities that are considered leisurely and exciting from a 19 year old’s perspective. I was brought up in an environment where growing up without fear was inevitable. After everything I’ve been through, witnessed, and felt, how can I be any less of a realist? I know how the world works, I always have. I just wish it would work in my favour like it has with others.

 

But don’t we all.

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