She pulls on her shoes with tears in her eyes, and by the time I let her leave, they are already beginning to roll down her face. I feel like a terrible person, even though I haven't done anything to hurt her... or did i? And now I am sitting here, questioning whether or not it was me that made her cry (the answer I concluded, was that yes.. it was me).
I wish it wasnt.
This morning I woke up with a metaphorical chip on my shoulder, having spent a night in a world where every person I knew, had something very personal against me. I guess, when the sleepiness wore off, I was still on the defense.
Sigh.
I don't know what I am trying to say.
My sister came by quick today to say hi, and told me about this paranormal experience, i guess you could say, that her friends Dad had... but like talking to my dad. And they've never met?
It is hard to explain to all you nay-sayers, but that (like most topics concerning my dad) hit really close to home. I cried.
THats right; i did just that.
It has been ten years and counting. Seems like forever, even though it feels like last week. It's just one of those days. I'll survive. I always do.
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