I’m not good with words but you were excellent. You make Mondays seem pleasant enough for me to set my alarm at 4am just so I could pack us breakfast. My dream was always inconstant and yours was a mystery. One day I wanted to be a speech therapist, the next maybe a teacher but what I know is that I always wanted to be by your side. That day, on 11th of March, your name was written on the Sunday newspaper along with your sister. I no longer get excited for Mondays. I no longer have dreams nor ambitions, until now I live with guilt and needed my own help that I wanted to offer others to. Maybe I need help, maybe I don’t. Maybe you’re not gone, maybe you’re just waiting for me at our usual place with Tuesday’s coffee and Monday’s gossip. I know to others your death is yesterday’s news but your name lingers with the hope that I wanted you to comeback. I’m angry, I’m so mad, so pissed you left. I hate you but I love you. Perhaps you’re still alive and I’m the one that’s buried 6 feet under. Maybe this letter is for me, the part of me that went away with you.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
I’m not good with words but you were excellent. You make Mondays seem pleasant enough for me to set my alarm at 4am just so I could pack us breakfast. My dream was always inconstant and yours was a mystery. One day I wanted to be a speech therapist, the next maybe a teacher but […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":0,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[2],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-427","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-love-letters"],"acf":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/loveletters.avadellaira.com\/love-letters\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/427","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/loveletters.avadellaira.com\/love-letters\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/loveletters.avadellaira.com\/love-letters\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/loveletters.avadellaira.com\/love-letters\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=427"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/loveletters.avadellaira.com\/love-letters\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/427\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/loveletters.avadellaira.com\/love-letters\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=427"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/loveletters.avadellaira.com\/love-letters\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=427"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/loveletters.avadellaira.com\/love-letters\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=427"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}