“I just wish you wouldn’t drink,” He said exasperated.
I held onto his leg as I groveled. I do so miss my father.
I didn’t tell him of Rosa coming by yesterday.
“Give me your credit cards and wallet,” He said worried that I would drink more.
I walked into my den as I sheepishly gave him said things.
“Dad, I just want to die,” I said.
“That is such a foolish thing to say,” He replied as he hugged me.
“Don’t make me suffer,” I said with a stern heart.
“God, you are drunk,” My father then said.
Dad soon left followed by my mother coming over. She wanted the keys to my car. I gave them to her willingly.
“I don’t know why you want to torture us so,” She said of my drinking.
Mom soon left to find me sitting on the floor crying. I cried my heart out.
“I just want to die,” I repeated.
Fortunately, dying is far harder than it seems. Death doesn’t come easy.