So Dad, you chose to leave your body behind three years ago, today. I can still smell the damp air in our room in Iran. How I walked in and you didn’t want to wake up. No matter how much I yelled at you. How much I shook you. How many times I kissed you neck.
You didn’t bloody wake up.
Dad, on this third anniversary, I wanted to tell you three things.
1- It doesn’t get easier.
2- It doesn’t get easier.
3- It doesn’t get easier.
I love you as much as the universe you rule.
(okay so that was 4 things but since when did you and I keep count of our chats?)
