Do you know what happens when your father dies?
Well, you immediately fall apart and cry but you don’t really know why you’re crying because your mind is blank.
Then you’ll later see him sleeping but it’s in a coffin. And then this rude voice out of nowhere will start to say these things.
Only it doesn’t remain little at all. It starts to whisper yell. Yes, to whisper yell. We all know how annoying that is.
But you’re not thinking about that because you just heard what it’s saying. “oh my God, dad is really dead. Oh Lord he’s not coming back”. And now it’s a whole crescendo in your head.
So ofcourse you shove your headsets in your ears real fast and crash that volume button.
The annoying tenant in your head goes silent but now you realize you’re crying to Pentatonix. Yes it’s Christmas music (and yes I have Christmas music on my phone all year round. If you’re quite finished with the judgement).
So now at every single Mary did you know you squeeze your eyes shut tight and the tears fall hard. I swear your heart ruptures everytime.
But it’s a good thing because now you can’t really think about you know who’s death. It’s buried so deep even a therapist couldn’t find it if they tried. Not that we are talking about how I need therapy, but I still haven’t thought about it.
Ofcourse I have had so much help since it happened. Not just Pentatonix. Some nights it’s 5 seconds of summer, sometimes it’s Post Malone, the Avett Brothers of recent. I don’t discriminate really. Whoever helps.