Dear Father - it's been 5 months since my last confession. Please forgive me, for I am not well. Again.
I've known for a few weeks that I've not felt right, but today my wife told me so, too.
Yesterday, I came very close to crying whilst queuing up to go on The London Eye. Right now - at 10pm - I want to go out and walk. Not to anywhere - just to keep walking and walking until I can't walk anymore.
I think - I think I don't know who I am sometimes. Who is he? WHAT is he? I don't know the answers to these questions. Does it matter? Do I actually matter? Maybe not.
It hurts like hell for me to type this now, but I fully understand the last thing that my dad ever said to me before he died. "I'm happy now, son. You're settled, [your sister] is settled, and that's all that matters to me. I'm happy". Imagine being that content that you are in a position to say goodbye to your eldest child in that way. Fuck me that's special.
I am so sad right now.
I don't know what to do.
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