African American

it really wasn’t that long ago

she died in 2003. 

sometimes I miss her.  I really miss her.   Like the times when I’m confused and I don’t know what to do.  I wish she was here to show me what to do or to tell me what she would do.  But she isn’t .  And I remember all the good shit she used to do .  I remember the kind of person she was and I’ve tried to pattern my life after her but so far it’s been an epic fail.   every time I falter, I want to know where I went wrong.  But she’s not here to answer me or tell me and that’s what hurts the most.   Maybe I’m being selfish because I can’t let her go..  Maybe I just feel like she has unfinished business to tend to. But who am I to make that decision?   I should’ve used the time wisely when she was here.  But I thought she was always going to be here.  Who knew she would leave me? 

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