Certain things seem to take forever and I don’t see any end to it.
Grieving for mummy is one. After the initial peace at her funeral… it was pain, pain, pain and more pain. I can’t look at her photo without feeling this sour, crampy feeling in my heart. I can’t think of her without fighting back my tears. The images of her sufferings are what’s filling my mind. Hey brain! Where are the happy files? You’ve lost them?!
I miss her. I miss the could-have been. Did we ever have the mother-daughter bond she so wanted? I don’t know if it’s the absence during my formative years that causes us to not have the Gilmore girls’ relationship. I could have tried harder, I could. But it’s too late.
It’s too late. By far, the world’s suckiest statement.
It’s too late… you’ve missed the flight. It’s too late… office hours is over. It’s too late… it’s stage 4 now.
It’s too late… nothing good comes out from ‘it’s too late.’