Sad hace.

When someone you love is dead, you expect the pain to go away in time, but even though it partially subsides, it is always there in the back of your head, creating new nightmares.

I woke up on March 7th (yesterday) at five in the morning, sweating, and breathing heavily. I had that dream again.

That dream where it is me instead of him. Where it is I shot point-blank, the bullet tearing apart my insides. The dream of me being the one who slowly, painfully, died alone.

He died alone. Those he loved, and those who loved him, were not there.

He saved the other man. He stood up for the other man, when they were being threatened by a drunk dude with a gun. Both died.

I miss him. That time was the worst time of my entire life, his death a big part of it.

It was cruel to Rachel and I. Rachel lost a father, and will grow up without a dad just like I did.
And I, finally getting to see how amazing it is to have a dad that actually gives a shit that you exist, get it all taken away from me. By a guy who was drunk and had a gun.

It was the worst for my mom. First she had me, with a man that was both violent and a heavy drinker, and who eventually was kicked out by her. He stayed the hell out of our lives, my father figure when I was growing up was my grandpa.
Then my mom moves here, and meets an amazing guy who not only cares about her, but also about me. They have Rachel. They are happy.
He dies.

Great luck we have with fathers, eh?

I don't know what I am supposed to tell Rachel when she is older. Will she even remember him?

---

He left that night to spend a night with some if his friends. Was innocent enough. I do remember seeing an annoyed look on my mother's face, and him telling Rachel and myself goodnight. And look how that turned out.

I apologize, sometimes I seem to interrogate Charlie with random shit. But I do worry. That day is always in the back of my head. I would... I don't know what I would do if I ever lost him too.