I wonder what it's like sometimes.
I wonder if people who die are grieving just as bad as we are. I mean, what if heaven doesn't exist? What if you just lie there. In the ground, in the urn in your case..and rot ? Are you happy ? Are there people there ? Or does you mind just keep going. Do you just lie there in dark silence and cringe at the voices in your head that you've created because there's no one else to talk to ?
I mean. If you did, we would have a lot in common. They diagnosed me with PTSD. I know you have that too. I wonder if it's in our genes. I wonder if you shot flashbacks and nightmares in my bloodstream like they shot painkiller in your.
Daddy, did it hurt ? I'm so sorry. I wanted to be there I swear I did. Social services are just building full of asses that rip children away from their happiness and try to say they're helping us.
I still remember the nurses name. She spoke to me on the phone, her name was Katie. She promised me you would be okay.
Was dead her definition of ok? Because you're not 'ok'.
And I'm not okay. And I find reasons to blame it on myself. To blame it on her. On everyone. I'm just so angry.
Angry. Angry Angry.
Depressed. Depressed. Depressed.
There's not enough medicine in the world to make me stop missing you.
Daddy, I miss you.
YOU ARE READING
Letters to Heaven.
Non-FictionDaddy, It's been a while Since I last wrote to you, but don't worry I was just a bit blue. Sorry for the blood on the paper I'm not feeling well the doctor said to take medicines but i doubt they help they keep asking me about when you died and it h...
