A Dream.

I had a dream about my father last night.

It’s quiet vivid now.
He drove past me on my way home from work.

I watched as he turned the car around and pulled over.

I was wearing my yellow sundress.
He got out.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

“When are you leaving?”

“Tonight.”

“Wow.”


I remember him walking away.
I received a phone call.

“You should take Monday and Tuesday off, I’ll stay if you can.”

“Am I supposed to drop my life for you?"

“I’m trying here.”

“Too late.”

I woke up rather sad today and I couldn’t exactly put my finger on why I was feeling so terrible.
I’ve realized why now.

I cried in the bathroom at work a few minutes ago.
I hate to admit that.
I hate to admit that his actions (or lack there of) still bother me.


Fuckyousir.

*dropsmic*