The twentieth of August, will be scared on my conscious forever. It's strange, that when someone you love so much leaves this world, you can't even feel it. It's only later, as you hear the heartbreaking news. Death. Parents cry, friends comfort. Things are well and everyone comes together. I don't know why I can't feel like I'm even a part of it. My aunt "Mimi" was my hero. She had a no bullshit tolerance. She stood up for what she believed in. And she showed me how to function, with a dysfunctional family. I only got ten years with her. Not enough. I want to scream to the world; "IT'S NOT FAIR!!!" And I know, it truly is not. She can't be gone, not when I have so much to ask her, to tell her, to show her. She left me and all she loved, just a little shocked. I said my goodbye, but I still couldn't bring my heart to mean it. It's impossible that my hero, no matter how crazy she got to be in the end is gone.
Gone.
Gone.
Gone.
