Truth is...

The truth is I haven't accepted it.
The truth is I refuse to.
He can't be gone. Not my dad. We just haven't talked in a few days.

Honestly, I look at his picture a million times a day. Even his memorial pamphlet which sits on my nightstand so he can watch over me with that 1000 watt smile.
I choke.
Stop. It's not real. He's not gone. Move on with your day.
I sometimes even tell myself it's fake. He's coming back.
I can't accept it.

I go on with my day truthfully feigning a smile. I stay busy entertaining my kids and staying around people so I'm not alone with my thoughts. I look like I'm having a great time.
Why not? He's not gone. It' not real.

Truth is I double take every man wearing a Hawaiian shirt. I double take any man with spiked highlights. Any man wearing khaki shorts.
Dad?
No, not this time.

Truth is I feel like I die a little inside every single time I take a picture. My blood stops and my heart literally hurts when I can't send him a picture of his grand daughters. I sent him every picture. At least once a day. He loved getting them and always replied something to let me know how much he loves us.
I don't get that anymore.

Truth is I wish on silly things. He always made fun of me for it. 11:11, eyelashes, etc. Every time I look at the clock and it's 11:11, 1;11, 2;22, sub any time I wish for the only thing I want.
My Daddy back.

Truth is I dream about him. Every night. It's always pretty much the same. In some dreams he's about to die and I'm telling him and trying to bond with him before he goes. Get in all the words and things I never could. In my dreams he never actually dies. This doesn't help. In other dreams he comes back. He always acts totally unfazed, like we're all lunatics for thinking he was gone. I'm usually trying to touch him, but keep getting interrupted. Also not helping.

Truth is it doesn't get easier with time. It gets harder. I only have more things to tell him every day. I called him all day, and he called me. We called each other to tell each other every little thing that happened to us.
He should come back now.

Truth is I get so angry at people not wearing helmets. I've told some. They laugh at me because they think hey're better than that. Who the hell do you think you are? My dad was a far more experienced rider than you. And he was wearing a helmet. He shouldn't be gone. You should.
I don't say that in my out loud voice, but to myself.
I'm angry. They're stupid.

I'm only 24. How could this honestly happen to ME?
How in the world am I supposed to live the rest of my life without my DAD?
I'm so selfish. My siblings are so young. I got so much.
It's still not fair.
I hate it.
It's not real.
Move on.

Truth is I want to self destruct.
I don't want to get out of bed. I have no idea how I can keep feeling like this.
I can't self destruct. I have children. Beautiful little girls he loved more than the world. That love me more than the world. He was so proud of the mother that I am to them. I can't fail at that. I have to keep him proud.
I lose my breath when I think that they wont remember him.
He loved them so much.
I will be a good mom. For him. For me. For them.
I have to be bigger than that.

Truth is I already feel like I'm failing as a mom. I feel like I've gone mute. I can't talk. My kids need me to talk but sometimes it literally hurts. I try to fake it. I put Riley in school because I know she needs more than what I can give.
I have to break my silence for them.

The truth is I've never done this before.
I don't know how to do it right.
I'm just trying to get through each day.
I'm sorry if I'm not doing it to your standards or pleasing you in the process.
I don't cry in public. I hold my head high and smile. I'm not weak.
At least that's what I'll have you believe.

But the truth is,
I'm weak.