In The End...

Okay, so I'm admittedly stealing this (in pieces) from The Vampire Diaries, my guilty pleasure, but it hits home. Despite all the positivity I can gleam out of my dad's life and even the way he died, I still have moments of despair resulting from his early passing. Moments where it feels like all is for not and I'm being dumb for filling my thoughts with a hope that just doesn't matter. They don't last long, but they are there, waiting for me in my darker hours.

"Like lighting a candle's going to make everything OK, or even saying a prayer... Stupid, delusional, exasperating...'It makes you feel better'. So what? For how long? A minute, a day? What difference does it make? Because in the end, when you lose somebody, every candle, every prayer is not going to make up for the fact that the only thing you have left is a hole in your life where that somebody that you cared about used to be. And a rock with a birthday carved into it..."

I can usually push passed it, but sometimes it's there.

Surprisingly, and fittingly, my dad is the one who helps me out of them.