Doing things because you feel like "you should" or because people "expect you to" is a way more difficult feeling than I had imagined. The time has come when I am given no more chances. I go see him now, or I don't ever again. Of course, we're packing the van and making the hour drive. I should have done it sooner. At least to where he'd have known I was there. To say a proper good-bye. I didn't want to. Every part of my body said "you'll regret it," but every ounce of my head didn't want to.
He has a massive tumor on his ankle, one on his chest, one on the thigh, and 4 spots on the brain. I am glad he won't suffer much longer, no one deserves to, but I am still too pissed off to find sympathy. I passed all the other stages of grief and held on to anger. That's right - I am a horrible person. Don't worry, I don't give a fuck what you think.
Being sick and dying doesn't make me automatically healed. You fucked over life and smoked how many cigarettes and joints a day? NEWS FLASH: Smoking causes lung cancer! AND giving up and walking out on your own family and finding a new one causes bitter, broken daughters.