if you don’t want to end up crying like a complete idiot while watching the L word, do not watch the father die from prostate or pancreatic or whatever kind of cancer he had.
you’re not there yet; and those actresses who played his daughters, well, they might’ve shadowed you for a day, cuz they nailed your mixed emotions of love, resentment, dependence and sorrow.
it will be impossible to not see your daddy in that fake-dead black man’s face and the picture of his last breath will stay with you all day. it will make you miss the occasional haunting thought of it that you usually have every couple weeks when everyone’s in bed and you’re thinking about life and you have to try not to angry/ugly cry because you don’t want to wake anyone up and you’re actually a little embarrassed that this is still happening because when, oh when, are you going to stop doing that – tearing up most of the times you think of your daddy?
it’s been nine months, grow up already.
