On the second week of May this year, 20:30pm. My mother sat down with me to tell me news she refused to share with me over the phone. At first I thought she was being her usual annoying "face to face" type of news person. But when she told me the news... that my father, not even in his fifties, at the young age of 47... had passed away due to a heart failure that a simple pace maker could have prevented. The news hit me like a tank doing 50kph... so much that I turned right around and just started playing my games again. And now... don't you just fucking hate these dramatic ...´s? As if they add tension. His funeral was a week ago. And I am still trying to come to terms with a man not even twice my age, married anew with a beautiful wife and my darling half-sister Katrina. Had passed away from something 70 year old men don't even pass away from all that often anymore..

My father was many things, and like him I suck at keeping in contact consistently. We often forgot to call each other, but both of us were workaholics eager to earn a keep for ourselves and our beloved ones. I never even got to tell him that I was homosexual, that I'd found a partner that I could very well imagine spending a great deal of my life with... something that hasn't been a constant with me for over a year... I didn't get to go with him all that much to the island where his mother, my grandmother on his family's side, runs a guesthouse for tourists coming to visit. He wasn't as often in my life as I would have preferred... but if nothing else I know for a fact he cared. I mean what kind of man writes what is perhaps the sappiest, most cheese-laden song for his son of then 14 years to describe how much he misses him as he's working in China? I was SO embarrassed when he let me hear the song... but like a well-mannered teen I responded that I enjoyed it! Why cant more teenagers be polite... not that I always was, or always am. But I have my father to thank for my attempts...

I am going to miss him, I am going to miss my dad so fucking much.. I will of course try to keep in touch with my sister and stepmother... especially with my fathers brother who seems intent on staying in touch with me and dads family, partly because... to be all Hollywood, we're all the remaining parts left of him in the material world. I see the romanticism with wanting to believe in other worlds, in other places. He worked for Herbalife a lot and... even though I nearly cried at the funeral when the singing began I managed to lighten the mood just a smidge... heaven finally has someone else but Jesus to brag about, they'll all be wearing Herbalife Toga's before the year is out...

The funeral was beautiful too... in a macabre sense at least. The passing of one man is a tragedy, but the loss of tens of thousands every day is a statistic, but I see now why we see it like that... it's personal. Elenor, dads wife could not stop crying, why should she? She lost the one man she cared the most about because of something so simple, so preventable... that it feels like a rotten joke.

So the weeks have been tough... quitting my second pocket-money job to get my sleep schedule back on track, spending far too much money, and now writing this journal weeks after the fact... I guess I just wanted to vent... to all of you who still have fathers, treasure them. It helps that him and I were on good terms, we met as often as we could and we liked each other, our last interaction was pleasant... I know it's inevitable that people pass away.. but screw you Grim Reaper.. this stung far too much...