A Year

I can't believe a year has gone by now since my father passed away. I lie here on my bed feeling numb and half hoping that the longer I stay up the further away tomorrow becomes. I know this is not true, although I long for it to be. Why is it that these time markers seem to mean so much? Why is it that yesterday didn't hurt as bad as tomorrow already is? Yes, he was not the best father in the world, and yes there were times where I even questioned if he loved me, but none of that changes the fact that he was my father and that reason alone is enough to make me love and miss him. I wish I could make the tears stay inside or that I could will the ice cream to truly take away the pain, but alas no matter how much "comfort" food I eat or how many times I say "I'm fine", they still come and it still remains. Waiting for Friday to come, so that Thursday will be gone, for this year anyways.