Who’d be at your grave the longest?

‘Who would sit at your grave the longest?’

My mom wouldn’t, she doesn’t even go to her Nan’s grave and she loved her Nan more than she’s ever loved me.

My siblings would move on, maybe they’d have a to take a second to breath, to let a memory pass every now and then but then they’d keep going.

I don’t have many friends, I don’t think the people I work with count.

My ghost would be there the longest. I’d sit with myself, keeping my rotting corpse company because I know no one else would.

I’d go back on everyone, every now and then but I’d mourn myself I think.

A waste of being a ghost honestly but I see to love to waste my own time.

But I’ve been alone my entire life, even while being surrounded by people, I’ve always been alone.

At least I’d be able to keep myself company, even if I know that it’s not how that works.

‘What would you do if you knew that you only had one day left to live’

Nothing.

I’d do what I always do, I’d do my normal routine and act like everything’s fine.

It wouldn’t matter, I don’t matter so why would my death? I’d just hope that it was a peaceful one.

My dad wouldn’t come to my funeral.

He won’t come to my wedding if I ever have one. Won’t ever know me. Won’t ever look at me without regret and distain in his eyes.

I know when people don’t like me. I spent years teaching myself the art of people so that I could understand. So that I could learn without ever having to ask.

My dad doesn’t like me, doesn’t think that I’m his.

He probably doesn’t think about me, doesn’t care, he never has done.

I want to forgive him. I want to ignore his hatred and pretend that he loves me. I won’t.

He’s never hugged me.

Thats an ache in my chest I’ll never be rid of. It’ll get quiet, easier to handle but it’ll always be there.

I hate him even more for that. I hate myself for that.