My father died when I was 16 years old. I remember that day so vividly. One day he was there, the next he was gone. I remember how he left that day. He stormed out and I felt the vibrations of the door he slammed behind him. I was happy he left. The anger and rage I felt was too much for my heart. He’d caused me pain for much too long.
The pain I felt that day was incomparable to the pain I felt when I didn’t hear his knock at the door anymore. Or the pain I felt when I didn’t smell his cologne or see him lying in his favorite spot.
I regretted that day ever since, happy to see him leave. I relive the memory every time a door closes. When a relationship ends, when I am left alone. I feel the vibrations of the door. The words that were left unsaid always linger in my mind. Wishing that I wouldn’t have been so happy.