Today’s worse than I expected. It’s what I thought Thursday would be like – and oddly, Thursday came and went without too much angst or reflection or what have you, which was a good thing, all in all. I thought maybe for once I could pass a milestone without getting all bent out of shape about it. Then I woke up today, very late, and realized “nope.”
What’s done is done. Obviously, I’m not over it, or I wouldn’t be sullen in the corner counting the minutes until I can go down to the pub.
Happy Father’s Day, pops. Cast ’em straight and drive ’em long.
I was thinking of you. And you haven’t a thing to apologize for you, know – you’re not supposed to get over it, I don’t think, not in the sense that it’ll one day not matter. He was a good guy. He’s worth not being over.