Thursday Afternoon

How am I?

I am okay. Which loosely translates as about as far away from okay as I want to be.

I could run through all the reasons why I'm not okay.

Depression that often stops me in my tracks. Even with medication. Which reminds me I need to organise an appointment to talk about my options. I need to talk about my sleep patterns and anxiety.

I don't really like going to the doctor's.

But. It must be done.

I have a plan for the third. Everything right now seems to revolve around it. Visit the grave and then go to the seaside. With Ruth. No fuss. No "game face". Just grief expressed with my closest and best friend.

I love her and appreciate her. I have not been an easy man to love. Not been an easy man to trust. I mean, I doubt I'd trust me if I'm perfectly honest. Most of the time.

Rather than try to be clever and write something for a specific challenge or anything, I thought I'd just stream and see where it took me.

I miss him.

Dad.

For the last 20+ years of his life I did all I could to avoid him. When he was alive it was a choice. It was easy to make cos the stakes were low until they weren't. Now he's dead. There is no choice. Just the reality.

He's gone and I miss him.

Miss his smile and laugh. He sang karaoke on caravan holidays.

He was a better singer than I could ever be.

I miss him because he was my Dad.

I listened to The Living Years by Mike + The Mechanics last night in an effort to bring on the tears. It didn’t work. The Mike is Mike Rutherford from Genesis fame. That oddly specific factoid is something he would have shared.

That song still cuts hard though. About broken father-son relationships.

I also listened to Me Ves Y Sufres by Hope of the States. It normally makes me cry but didn’t.

When I compare him to other parents I’ve heard about, his flaws and my grievances shift in perspective.

He was just a guy

Who tried his best.

Was his best good enough?

Fuck knows. Well I know. Nah. It wasn’t. But I hope for grace, understanding and forgiveness.

The hypocrisy is strong within me.

I can’t cry at the moment.

Anyone that knows me will know I am a proud crier.

I just can’t. I want to. But I can’t.

I feel the tide is coming in soon and it’s going to be a big one.

I am messy at the moment but trying to keep a check on my sadness that sometimes becomes anger.

I will never see his smile or hear his laugh again.

I sometimes see men that resemble him. It hits differently now.

Now I know they can’t be him.

Before there was at least a chance.

Now I am stuck wanting to see my dad and I can’t.

I’d like to tell him he helped shape things. That my writing is stronger because of what I’ve learned. A positive from a negative.

His son has won a lot of competitions. His daughter is kind and chaotic. His other son is funny and a great guitarist.

It doesn’t really matter how much credit he gets.

We were their children.

I hadn’t really thought about that properly until now.

I can still taste the half honeydew melon in my mouth. Later that will be replaced with the taste of Jägermeister and Laphroaig 10 year old single malt.

I fancy pizza tonight.

I have had a headache since I woke.

I think I will listen to Iron Maiden.

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