People said the strangest things to me at the funeral and the weeks after, maybe they were trying to protect me. They were uncomfortable, I could tell even at that young age, all except those who knew exactly what to say to comfort me: the Lord works in mysterious ways.
I hated it more than anything, it felt like a violation, like trying to excuse the inexcusable and sometimes I wanted to scream. I've had enough of fairytales, I know that nothing lasts forever and it doesn't scare me anymore. I remember how he would sing to me whenever I couldn't sleep: Imagine there's no heaven, it's easy if you try.