It's a wonderfully gloomy and rainy day, perfectly suiting my mood and perfect for sleeping but I can not. Today is the 15 year anniversary of the death of my father. My dad...What do I really do or say anymore? Last year on Father's Day I sat on the bed of his tombstone implanted flat into the ground and screamed at the sky, flailing and beating my fists into the ground wondering why this had to happen to him? To me? Why had he done what he did? I don't blame him though, I can't how could I?
You left your little girl here. I'm still here, I'm still your little girl and I haven't really grown up and I'll never grow up without you.