A SPACE FOR PEACE

My Dad died on April 25th 2000, that means it'll be 15th year this year.

God.

It has been so awfully long, hasn't it?

I'm gonna be 24 this year.
My sister will be 20 (Awww!).
And my little brother is 18 this May.
My Mum has happily remarried with a nice man (still not as nice as my Dad though, really) and gave us a half brother who is lovely and smart.

My Dad's death always haunts me for the past 15 years.
If I wasn't a traumatic kid, it made me becomes one.
It breaks and tears me down, into pieces.
And I keep running from the truth that my Dad has gone for 15 years now.

But for the first time in the last 15 years, this thought has come to me.
The thought of making peace with my nightmare.
The thought of finally letting him go.
The thought of not running from the truth about him.
The thought of enjoying my life without being so stuck with it.

It's been 15 years.
People said time will heal anything.
Anything.
I hope it's true and I hope this isn't an exception.

I don't want to forget him. Not ever.
I want to always miss him.
I want to love him more each day as if he's still alive.

But I need to find a way to do that without being trapped inside my fear.

Sometimes I wish I went to his funeral instead of crying in the attic while he was taken away.
I wish I watched them buried him to the ground, to his last shelter. And I hope the best shelter he's ever had.
Maybe if I did that, I wouldn't be as haunted as I am now.