good lord are you sick of me yet? when does another's grief become just too too much, right? remember when i used write about boybarian hijinks and accidentally wearing a maternity dress? the time i tried to buy 'long and lean' jeans at the gap? super good times.
not today. today i woke up with swollen eyes and a broken heart. after falling asleep in a puddle of tears.
i think the worst part of someone being sick and in the process of dying is that it's such a...process. there are so many layers. and you have to navigate each one. have to. if you don't you'll just have to go back.
and when i woke up this morning i saw what i had written in the night:
'for my father,
It was enough.'
and i cried again.
because it's true.
because i wouldn't change a thing.
because i am certain this broken heart is complete underneath.
it was enough.