"In the end, we're left infinitely and utterly alone."

~Klaus Mikaelson


8. Memories...

As I look back on the moments I had with my dad,
we argued a lot.

And some of it is because we're both stubborn, so
neither of us wanted to be the first person to say,

"I'm sorry."

If I would've just said sorry the first week we weren't talking, 
I wouldn't be feeling this guilt in my stomach.

All those wasted days when we weren't talking, 
I could've used those days to love him even more.

To show my appreciation and love for him.

Of all the times my dad asked me to do something with him,
and I said no because I didn't feel like it...


Sometimes at night, my dad would come upstairs and come to my room
because that's where I spent most of my time.

And he'd just lay in bed with me and we'd mess around with each other,
wrestle, mess with one another while the other was trying to rest real quick.


Now that I'm thinking about, I'll never get to have those moments.
And it sucks just thinking about it.


He was forty-two.
That's too soon to die.


My mom keeps saying to us,
"God thought it was his time to go."

But it wasn't!
It was too soon!

And the fact that the day before he died,
he was perfectly fine!

He went to the movies with my mom
then they went somewhere to eat.




It wasn't his time to go.
Not now.


If I would've just said "I love you" more than I had
I wouldn't be feeling like it's all my fault.


My name is Dezire, but people pronounce it wrong.
It's pronounced like "desire", but people pronounce it like

So ever since I was a little girl, my dad would pronounce my
name wrong on purpose because he knew, as a little girl,
I hated it when people said my name like that.
He only did it to get a reaction out of me.


Now as a teen, I got used to it, and it became his nickname for me.

I'll never hear him call me that again...

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