"I know it's difficult lovey, but he misses you, and they say he's been getting better." my mamá rubs my arms up and down, like she always does when she thinks I need it. She always knows how to comfort me, still I can't look at her, I don't want her to see my face.
I'm a terrible person.
A terrible, selfish person, and I wish I could just woman up and march over to the hospital and crack jokes so that he'll laugh, but I'm afraid my heart will stop when I hear how weak it is.
I'm afraid my jokes won't be as funny to him anymore. And that I'll have to fake my smile and he hates when I fake my smile, but he hates to see me sad even more. But I can't be anything but, when he's basically dying in front of my eyes.
It's not fun watching your dad deteriorate, but it sucks that your time is limited, so you know that if you don't watch... you might miss his last smiles and words and he won't get to hear anymore of your terrible jokes and see your smiles that he says 'keep him going'.
I need to woman up.
I feel my mom's hand swipe across my cheek. I finally look up at her and the world is a bit blurry.
"It won't happen again." My mamá's voice is strong but comforting, "You know that it wasn't your fault, right?" My mom asks, her frown deepening when I don't speak.
I sigh shakily, "I know... I know that it wasn't my fault, but it all happened so fast. And no one else was there." I hiccup. "I just don't understand why this is happening to him." I sniffle.
I find myself switching between sadness and anger because of my dad's situation. I only allow myself to cry when I'm with Beef. No matter if it's angry tears or my way-too-upset-to-keep-it-in tears. I always manage to keep it in.
I was always able to keep it in. Now I can't. Not when he stopped breathing right beside me. Not when everything seems to be falling from my fingertips.
Sometimes it gets too hard to pretend like everything is okay.
I couldn't contain my stupid eye juice when the machine attached to him started beeping in warning and felt pathetic when I didn't know what to do and helpless while I was pulled out of the room by my, also crying, mom.
But I haven't seen him in almost two weeks and that doesn't make me feel any better. Not when I used to see his pearly white smile every darn day.
"I'll go tomorrow afternoon. It's too late to go now." I tell my mom, taking a deep breath. "And I can tell him about all of the new friends I made." My smile is hard to muster up, but it's still there.
♥
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
