A Month After

It's been a month since Dad passed away. Time flies? Not really. It did felt like 30 days are over? Not quite. I just know that it's been a month. That's all.

Went to " Dad's " this morning with Mom, older brother and nephew. I didn't cry. I didn't feel anything, to be honest. I just keep hearing myself say, 

" He's now there. Down there. Wonder how he's feeling right now. Wonder if he misses us. If he misses me. "

Mom's hands.

I wonder if things would be the same if he's still around. Will we - me, mom and brother - be communicating as much as we have been since he was in the hospital? Or I'd still be the outsider in the family?

I am feeling down at the moment. Not because of Dad. I was okay when we left him.
It's just ... guilt is eating me up inside. Making me feel like a worthless piece of shit. Or even worse. If that's possible. Usually, I'm used to that. Not this time. But maybe, I should try to be okay with it this time as well.
Again.
And while I'm at it, maybe I should go back being me that keeps my mouth shut. Because I'll only fuck things up or hurt people when I don't.
I'll just shut up and let things hurt me instead of speaking up to make it stop.
I'm much more of a use like that.
So, from now on, I'm gonna try to find that setting again.

This sucks so much, I don't even know what to feel.

........

Anyway,
doesn't matter.
Nothing (related to me) does.
That's how world peace is still possible.
Maybe.
Whatever.