A Letter.
My heart still aches from the fact that you are not here with us anymore. I never stop missing you. I never will do. Sure the world has moved on. But I remain in this place. I remain broken, from this, from our little world that is, and all else. Sure it revolves still, but does so roughly since then. How do you not look back on the life that came to pass? On the life that was? How do you not live in the past when it was a time of joy and completeness? How do you hide a broken heart? A broken soul? A broken girl? And how can the heart learn to open up? To feel? To love? Too many pretend encouragement. Too many fake smiles. Too many forced preach of inspirational beliefs. Some of which are more hope than personal truth. The little things allow steps forward, sure. The people that remained remains to be a box of strength, no doubt in that. Still, nothing really makes it go away. At least not permanently. You owe people laughter, and "yes I am okay answers"- in return to countless consoling and millions of comfort words said. Nothing fully heals the wound of a girl who lost her father. Nothing fully takes away the scar of a child who lost a parent.
