It’s around 2 in the morning now, but I wasn’t able to sleep. Everytime I close my eyes, I just think of you. Right now, it feels like it’ll be impossible to accept that you’re really gone. I know that every morning for the rest of my life, I’m going to glance at my phone and hope to see the message you sent every single day “Good Morning, I Love you.”
You always said I was your pride and joy, but the last few years it felt like we’d drifted apart. I know most of that is my fault. I’m the one who moved away, I’m the one who never called, and I’m the one who, even up to the end, kept thinking “I’ll reply back in a little bit.” Now, there’s no more little bits left.
You’re really gone, and I’ll never, ever get the chance to say just how much I love you and how much I miss all the time we used to spend together. There are countless conversations that we could have had, if only I’d just reached out. I know you’d have listened, you always listened, even when you had no earthly clue what I was talking about.
That’s why I’m starting this. I want to believe that, wherever you are now, maybe we can try to connect again. Maybe, somehow, you’ll be able to read these words and know just how much you meant to me and how much I’m going to miss you. Maybe by sharing my thoughts and my memories of you with the rest of the world, I can find some way to make it up to you.
It’s getting late and I should probably get to sleep. You were always a night owl, just like me, so, I know you’re probably still awake too. Let’s both try to get some sleep, alright? I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Night, Dad.