Or the Universe, or God, whatever, I don’t know. But now that I confessed a little something to my mother, I want to share it with someone else: I think my father’s death was my fault.
I’ve been wanting to die since I was 15 (that’s almost 11 years now), and two years ago, my dad died of Cancer. Tho I prayed everyday that the bloody cancer would left his body and came into mine instead, of course it didn’t happen. And I think, I honestly believe, that that was the Universe telling me “suck it” for wanting to die for so many years and still never doing anything about it.
I feel so guilty. My family fell apart with my dad’s death, and I, personally, got so much worse. Everything would be so much better if my dad were still alive, and I, dead. But even now killing myself is not worth it. My mom couldn’t take it, not without my dad, and that also makes me feel so ashamed, because I’m so ANGRY that my dad died and so I /have/ to keep on living.
My mother said that she could have never made it without me, that she can live without my dad but no without me, but I know it’s a lie, I know how things are and I know how they would be if I had had cancer, but I still felt better after I told her this.
Now I want to talk with my sisters. I want to tell them I’m sorry our dad is dead and I’m alive. Let’s see if I do it.