Art of Depression

My dad died. 3 fucking years ago.
My dad’s dead. I had a terrible relationship with him and now he’s gone and I’ll never have a chance to mend it.

My life is falling apart, my relationship is crumbling and I can’t even get an answer for why. I miss him and I miss how things were.

Even my cat hates me for some reason. I don’t even know what I’ve done to anybody for this to happen. I want to keel over, or follow in my dad’s footsteps.

I’m visiting his grave this weekend, it’s an 8 hour trip one way. I just keep getting told I’m lucky I get 3 days off work. What ever happened to actual vacations where you enjoy where you’re going? Now I spend my vacation days visiting my dead fathers buried body in a cemetery that has so many regulations that you can’t even bring flowers if they’re not on a list of approved colors.

I’ll probably drive the hour to the spot where he did it, I feel like that’s the only place I feel close to him. Maybe I’ll reach out to his old roommate. Maybe his old girlfriend. I just wish I knew why he did it, the not knowing is what kills me the most. I miss a person I didn’t even know, but the more I find out about him, the more I find we had in common, the more it hurts.

Whoever said time heals was a fucking liar.
Maybe I’ll die in the parking lot of a Surplus Home Outlet store too.