Sometimes you are going to miss a person who was an almost to you. And feel sad because there is no name for that feeling. You just feel it in a way that makes you tired to your very bones.
When I set out to find my father, I was not being brave. I was acting out of fear or losing the only parent I ever had. They may want you to believe I was simple being brave, but anxiety makes more heroes than history would care to repeat.
There are three versions of you. The one that smiles and laughs with others, the one that hides and cries alone, and the one that has the ability to achieve greatness.
And often when she finds herself missing him, missing the good moments with him, she whispers to herself, ‘The absence of you has taught me how to love myself. So thank you, my darling, my dearest.
