2 Years

The two-year mark seems to have hit harder than I thought. It took me out completely. I was a different Stella. I felt the rug pulled out from under my feet. 

The week leading up to it started with absolute anger. I was upset with everything and everyone. My expectations of what I thought would happen were shattered. I felt that I let myself down. I spent a lot of time to myself, in fear that I would say or do something to someone else that would be hurtful. I didn't want to burn bridges, just because I was upset. 

I think that I thought this was a day that I could be in control. I could let myself be sad but not let my emotions take over.

By the end of the week, I was hurt by a friend, cried my eyes out and stayed home on the weekend trying to get myself together. It was not looking too good.

By the time Sunday arrived, I was an utter and complete mess. It was almost Monday.

The feeling of no longer having my dad became real. I was the most vulnerable I had been in a while. I was trying to go to sleep Sunday night and I couldn’t stop thinking; it was like my mind wasn't able to shut off. I ran into my closet to grab my dad’s hoodie to put out for school the next day. It had been sitting in there for too long and had a weird smell to it. I went downstairs and tried to find his old cologne to put on the hoodie so that it would smell like him.

I didn't sleep. It felt that if I  slept, I would get closer to the day ahead of me. Staying awake meant that it wasn't two years yet: that life hadn't moved so fast and far away from him. 

I was sad, angry, upset that I didn't have the comfort of my dad anymore. Sad about the things that I couldn't do. I couldn't tell him about my shit week and laugh about the people who pissed me off. I couldn't get a hug from him or have a pep talk on how to approach the few months of senior fall with grace and empathy. He was gone, and I felt that I was too. 

Post Monday, I was exhausted. I moved through school like a zombie, just trying to finish my work and leave. Everything hurt. 

“The hardest part is over, now you just need to recover.” I tried to remind myself. 

If I learned anything, it's that it's only going to get harder from here when that moment of reality hits. 
Finding out what college I get into, turning 18, graduating high school, getting my first job, getting married, finding a place to call home, and having kids that will never meet their grandfather…All those things and more will happen without him. That's what hurts the most.