19 days ago was the anniversary of my parents’ deaths. I didn’t write about it, the day of was a largely uneventful day..until the end of the day itself. I got really upset toward the end of the night. I was told that I was handling it well/dealing with the day well. I think those words took me back to a time where I felt like…if I wasn’t in pain, I was forgetting them or something. But I reminded myself that, earlier that day/leading up to the day, that whether or not I act in a manner that I or other people expect..when it gets right down to it, the pain is there and it is consistent. I have good days and bad days…good moments and bad moments. And the good moments don’t mean I’m not hurting. Just like the bad moments don’t mean there weren’t be good moments. Although sometimes I feel otherwise.

It’s still so weird being without my parents. It’s just…strange. There are constant reminders, sometimes more present than others, that they aren’t here. I watch shows or see people I know, or don’t know, turning to their parents in times of trouble or stress…and it always reminds me that I can’t do that anymore. My unhappiness is compounded by the fact that I cannot reach out to them. That I will not be able to. As I’ve mentioned before, it puts a damper on everything…on life itself. Even the small hope I have for the future, my future, seems unable to reach its full potential.



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