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Dear Distraction,

So I’m about to experience a horrible day. Depending on what I find out, I’m also going to have a horrible week… and time is going to continue drifting by in a horrible manner for a horrible length of time. However, if what I find out happens to be the alternate outcome, time won’t pass by horribly, but terribly.

Horrible: causing or likely to cause horror; shocking. Similar to awful, dreadful, upsetting, nightmarish.

Terrible: causing or likely to cause terror; sinister. Similar to frightful, loathsome, hateful, monstrous.

If someone suddenly dies of natural causes, by himself, away from his loved ones, that is horrible.

If someone dies at the hands of someone else, away from his loved ones, that is terrible.

Those are my possible outcomes, and that someone is my father.

I don’t know how to deal with or accept any of the above. I can’t predict or forecast emotions. I get angry at times, I burst into tears, hide them, spending most of my time distracting myself instead of surrounding myself in it. It happened 19 days ago, but today is the first day when I’m letting myself open up to it. Feel the pain, only to begin the process of healing.

Such an inefficient process, giving up your defense mechanism, to allow yourself to ‘heal’ by going through more pain than its worth. ‘Heal’, knowing that the pain is never going to leave, its always going to hurt, its going to line your stomach and make you nauseous, its always going to leech at the back of your mind causing a migraine that never leaves but only dulls. A weakness in your muscles that as hard as you work to make them stronger, the weakness lingers like a red wine stain that won’t wash out.

But it’s the only way. It’s not fair, but nothing is in life, not even when life stops. I’m not usually negative, or depressing. I usually make jokes even when inappropriate, I laugh in awkward situations and smile through pain. Writing however seems to be the only outlet where I allow myself to limbo under this weird and sometimes socially inappropriate reaction, and get my real feelings out, to breathe and to be seen. To be real, and to be heard. So this is why I’m writing, not to make anyone who has accidentally stumbled across these sad and dreary words feel bad, or and kind of negative feeling. It’s so I can feel something. Anything. I just need to find out what that is, question myself enough until I find an answer. Interrogate my denial until it shatters into a million pieces.

When I picture that inevitable moment happening, I imagine it like I would a heavy glass, filled with burning acid, smashing at my bare feet. Surrounded by sharp, torturous edges, my skin seething from the burning sensation caused by the heat of the chemical. My only option, to walk across to seek remedy, the pain unbearable, but the need to soothe compulsory. To move on, to survive, Darwinism at it’s most torturous.

As horrible, or as terrible is it may be. It still is. It is what it is.

Until I hear more x

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