It's the Little Things

It's odd, even after six months, the littlest things still set me off. It's especially strange since I'm not much of a crier, but the tiniest little things will have me sobbing while I manage to be dry-eyed when I should be sobbing.

Today I was watching "What A Girl Wants" and near the end, when they got to the part at the wedding where the bride wanted to share a special dance with her father (it's the second such scene in the movie, the other's at the beginning), I started crying. Because that will never be me, I'll never got that moment.

I had it all planned out in my head. I even had the song. Hell, I've had the song longer than I can remember. I mean, the guy, the date, all the details those have always been fuzzy, but the father/daughter dacne that was always clear. Except it can't happen.

I'm never going to walk down the aisle on my father's arm. We're not going to dance to Ruby Tuesday. He won't meet my future husband (if I ever marry, that is), won't see his grandchildren. So much of my life, he won't be there for.

I wonder if that'll ever stop hurting? Probably not, but there'll cme a time when I've become accustomed to it, when I've accepted what I've lost. I wonder when that will be.