I struggle to talk about my dad. Always. I resent people who talk bad about him. I want to scream at them, really loud on their face, with a crazy face of my own, as to let them know that if they continue to talk shit I will hurt them, and that they don't want to get to that point.
I miss my dad. And I want to hear him. I want to talk to him and I want to say tell him that I love him. And I want my crazy, vivid dreams to be some kind of reality. Because we laugh together in my dreams. And I can see his drawings in my dreams. And I'm still a man's daughter in my dreams.