If I could steal one final glance, one final step, one final dance with him. I'd play a song that would never ever end.

So this was kind of a hard week. It always is this time of the year. Yesterday was the day my father died 3 years ago. It has already been 3 years but it still feels like I'm still accepting and getting used to the fact that he is no longer around and never will be. My father and I were a team. Always have been. For my whole life it has been my mother and my brother against me and my father. Of course I'm doing fine with my mother & brother. But I miss my father. I miss having him around and sharing my stories with him. It all happened very sudden 3 years ago. He was a confused men and was dealing with his issues alot, let's just say at some point he couldn't deal with this stuff anymore. I hate saying the word. Let's just say he found his way out. I never understood his decision and I think I never will. But I'm ok with it now, I accept it. But it doesn't take away the pain of missing him. He was the one who knew me the best and understood me. I don't believe in God, I don't believe in life after dead, but I do like to hold on to the thought that someday we will meet again. Sometime, at some place.
xx