Wasted

I’m weepy and emotional in general this week. But sometimes I feel like all this interesting stuff is wasted on me. I can’t tell you how, while I’ve been so excited and it’s so neat, it just hurts my heart so much that my Uncle B. is not here to share it with. He’s been dead twenty years, but these past couple of weeks, it’s just been like a dagger in my heart. Grief is so fucking weird. It comes fresh when it comes, no matter how long it’s been.

But even today, I had this thought that I should call Uncle B. and tell him about all the stuff I’m finding out about. I mean, he would have so loved it.

It makes me sad, but also it makes me feel close to him, still, which is nice.

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One thought on “Wasted

  1. I miss my dad at the oddest times, and he’s been gone for 22 years. My mom hasn’t been gone as long, but the ways/times I miss her are completely different. When a friend of a friend died, someone I liked but didn’t know that well, it struck me very hard for some reason. Grief is very strange.

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