Quite frankly, I don't know how this is going to help. I want to release my feelings, not have to relive them on paper. I want to stop thinking, stop breathing, stop living. I want to go back to the way things were just a week ago.
I want to do something besides feel helpless. I feel so alone, so abandoned. I don't think things will ever be the same. Never again. . .
Why did he have to go? Why wasn't he helped? Why wasn't he saved?
Oh, these questions are pointless! They can't be answered, and they're just leading me to blame other people for my father's death. . .
No one is to blame, really.
No one is to blame. . .