It's more than annoying that there's two days associated with my dad's death.
Yesterday I know it happened.
Today I relive the all too clear memories of the day we found out. The day I was home alone when the cops came. The night I hurt more than I ever will again.
This isn't a post for pity, it just fucking sucks and always will.
I'll never fully get over it.
Mostly because I never accepted it.
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