. He was sitting in his chair, looking at me, and as always asking me question about your health. Calling me with my baby nick name, I was more than happy to see that he looked great. Smiling with joy and looking young I was happy to see that he doesn’t have any pain, he doesn’t have any scars, and he enjoys life. I was confused by this, as I knew that his health is not very good, but I assumed that he become better. As we were talking about how to prevent future problems, I was looking with joy and smiled.
Then. I woke up. It was a dream. He is not here. It is 5 am. Another dream in which I saw his happy face. All confused I went to his room. Empty room, perfectly made bed. Picture of me, my brother and my mother on the side. Pictures that he was seeing while fighting to survive. Pictures that were reminding him that he should not give up. I crushed on the bed all in tears. More than ever I realized that I miss him. More than I ever I realized that this past 6 months are fake. I am fake. I am not the same person, that so desperately I am trying to be. I am hiding that I miss him. And people think I don’t. But I do. To call me by nick name, or just send me message asking me what took me so long to come home, or that he loves me. I miss his perfume all around. I miss my friends saying “ Your dad is sooo handsome” . I miss my brother and I fighting for whom to get his old phone. I miss him being the imperfect dad, and the most stylish 45 years old ever. I miss him buying films, and watching them with me and my brother. I miss his specific taste for juices. I miss him making fun of me and my friends when we were making sangria. I miss him joke around with me and my boyfriend. I miss him drinking coffee with me, and miss his talks about good places in town. I miss him saying “ You look beautiful “ before I was going out. I miss him eating watermelon with me, and discussing about food.I miss him saying “ What have you drank last night ?”. I miss you to change pictures from phone with me through wifi. I miss my imperfect, stylish, funny and amazing father. I love him. I always did. Never showed that.
I miss him more than I could think I ever will. And I barely enter in this room. It is so frickin painful.