The Luxury of Tears

I have not wept still. I know daughters must weep. But you were not just my father.....
 you were my friend, my life. I had chequered my past with you, my present had no significance without you by the side, the future hangs in the insignificance of the present, victory and defeat feel alike.
I know I must weep... I do not know if I will survive the tears or if you will withstand to hear me cry...
You never liked to see me cry anyway.
 Family dinners are lonely, i take care not to hurt the rest,
they sense nothing fills that absence...
I try to see you in someone, futile efforts
last night after almost five years of your funeral I speak your absence
I hear them startle the first time I do...
I know I must weep, I wept against you every time I lost something
Now I do not have the luxury of tears, I don't carry my handkerchief still
I reach out for yours still
I still use the wrong verb, I know now I must say 'dad was'
I  forget you are not at the table anymore
I try not to, but still I forget I don't have to call your number
I know I should have wept.