Tu me haces falta, dad.
Tu me haces falta, dad.
 
I lay here in what used to be where you usually are in nights like this. With the TV on and lights off. I could still picture you sleeping on an armchair, with your stash of medicines on the table and your nebulizer beside you. 

You’d awake once I get home from work and you’d greet me with a smile and I’d kiss you on the forehead… I could not help but to shed tears as I am writing this, for I can clearly remember the countless nights wherein we would share a conversation over a chicken sandwich.

I miss the mornings when you’d be here, drinking coffee out at the veranda and the afternoons where the music was in full blast and you’d sing along…

Sometimes, I hate going home for I see you here. I feel you here… 

I lay here in the dark now, weeping, wondering…

When will the pain of losing you finally elude me?

Tu me haces falta dad. Yo te quiero tanto… 

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