So I dreamt of him again last night, my dad. And like the others before, the dream wasn't pretty. Something almost always happens which is reminiscent of how he used to be. With one difference: I always fought back in my dreams. And I always win. How I envisioned myself acting now that I can stand on my own feet is how the dreams end. It's sort of a major production finale--except that he's no longer around to see how it turned out.
Which bothers me.
After 7 long years, am I still clinging to a hatred I swore I would forego all these years? Was I in that much pain that, until now, the feeling lingers, albeit subconsciously?
He died 7 years ago. And after 7 years, I know I should now forego all these.
The only question is, could I?
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