12:07pm July 10, 2014

➸ I guess I'd tricked myself into believing we had more time.

youneedacat:

Like I knew that my dad’s cancer wasn’t good, and my gut told me we didn’t have long regardless of what doctors were saying about maybe a year if everything went well. But somehow I kept thinking, maybe it’ll be six months, maybe he can finish his book, maybe…

And maybe all those things can still…

I know what you mean. :/ I kept hoping there had been some mistake about how bad the cancer was. And that he would bounce right back from the first chemo treatment. And my brain keeps trying to come up with “loopholes” in all this, like maybe the numbers looking bad is actually an indicator that they’ll flip the other way soon.

I know that’s all the textbook definition of “wishful thinking”, and that it doesn’t do any good, but, just…gah. I am so sorry this is happening. And while this might be kind of selfish of me, I am kind of pissed off that I never got to meet your dad and talk about electronics and stuff. That sounds so…mundane but you know what I mean?

I know exactly what you mean.

There will never be enough time for all the conversations we could’ve had. About so many things.

And when I do talk to him, it’s hard to talk about anything, because all I care about at that point is I love him and I love him and I love him and it’s hard to carry on a whole conversation where all you say is “I love you”.

Notes: