Dear dad,

How do you put your feet on the ground? How do you exsist in a world where they do not?

The world somehow doesn't feel real anymore. So much white.

How do you breathe when the person who gave you breath is gone?

Suddenly in the night.

The wind through the trees is a comfort. A sign that you're here and will forever always be with me.

So many hearts broken and some don't even know why, though I know they feel it. "Why does it seem colder?" they may ask. "Why does the day seem dimmer?" they may think.

Because the spark that ignited your world is gone. Though they don't know it.

For now, I'll put all of my grief into a little book. I will write until my grief turns to joy and the pages overflow.

And I will show the world what it's like to grieve.

Dear dad,

I miss you.

As always,

your daughter