A late night plea, and simple maths

42 - 24 = 18

When I remove the last 24 years of my life from my current age, 42, I'm left with 18. The age when my father died, the time when your father conquered! 

24 is the age I was when I gave birth to you. 

18 is your current age. 

I am soon to be 43, I was 23 when I got pregnant with you. Almost half my life with you...

But, I thank you, for wanting to put an end to what your father started. You're not game, I was not your choice, you're out, you've got it. I get it. 

The past 24 years chunk of my life is to be ended and removed indeed, and I am to restore my 18 years self.

But my father has just died, I'm 18, and you have just died, I'm 42, and I'm left with so big a pain inside of me that's shocking and choking. I'm not truly 42, I can't truly handle this, I'm an orphaned child, though my mother was around... But you know the story, big part of it anyway.

I will miss you so very badly, I miss you every single day, I cry every single night. 

This isn't for you now, this is for God: 

Won't you please help me restore whatever is salvageable of me. Either that, or please please please take me away... 

I can't take the pain any longer. 

Or at least make me forget. Remove her and the memories from my head, remove the memories from my heart. Remove those ties from my soul.

Remove the longing, the missing, the thinking, the feeling, the hoping, the wishing, the idiocy! 

Give me faith, give me strength, pretty please. 

Please... 

Please, 

Please!