Nothing.

When life hands you lemons, sometimes it feels good to tell it to fuck off before making any damn lemonade.

There.

That's where I'm at.

Grieving someone you consider your personal hero, savior, whatever... it fucking sucks. It's nightmares, sweating, swearing, unable to do anything, but then you can't sit down for more than two minutes either.

You know what though?

I've been through a lot. 

And I'll get through this, too.

The writing will get better (Jesus God in Heaven please make it so).

In the meantime, you get journaling and shitty first drafts. Which, let's be honest, is exactly what a blog is.

I feel as though I have nothing to say, but everything to scream. Hard to write when you FEEL LIKE THIS IS MORE APPROPRIATE AND MAYBE NOW PEOPLE WILL KNOW.

Know what?

I have no clue.

That my dad died? That I'm sad? That going to his house to visit my mom is one of the hardest things I do? That I can't stop crying still and it's been 7 weeks? I was in so much shock with Patrick's death that I honestly don't remember crying. I remember shaking a lot. I remember not sleeping. I don't remember this many tears. They're good I guess. It's a release. But I don't even want to talk about it.

In fact, I think that's all I have for today.