numb.

I don't feel anything, really.
I mean, yes, I am angry at the fact that I was the last person to know about my uncle's passing [even though, I actually wasn't, thanks to a Facebook status]...but that's all I feel.
I don't feel sad.
I don't feel like...I don't feel as though I miss him quite yet.
Maybe after the hurt and anger wears off, it will leave a clear coat of simple sadness that will hit me like a train in the near future.
Oh, how I can't wait for that.

But you know something?
I tend to feel things before I'm supposed to.
I cried for my uncle in July when I went to see him...before he died.
When we talked about nothing and everything but what was right before everyone's eyes.
I cried for him.
I knew I would miss him.

I mourned my father for at least six months before he died, simply because it was something that I feel my subconscious expected, but I suppressed it enough that I hid it from my conscious mind.

I don't like how I feel right now.
I don't like it at all.

I just thought you might like to know that.









Friday.