My Father

Just don't give up.

I didn't know what to do.... 

What to say....

What to... feel.

I just kept placing myself in this dark corner, my back against the wall, watching the world as it came at me. I stayed silent hoping the world would ignore me, so the pain would stop hurting, so it could all go away.

I wasn't sure what hurt most. Was it the silence, the isolation from those who claimed to once love me? Or was it the constant struggle to find the will to fight when the world just kept tearing me down?

So many nights I felt the soft tear trickled down my cheek, one after the other. The cool tear sliding down my burning red face, surrounded by nothing but the darkness and silence of my bedroom. On the other side of the white bedroom door, was my father singing, happily. The sweet aroma of the dinner he made filled the air, it seemed to make every thing lighten. The song he softly hummed seemed to make the room dance. I loved my father. And he loved me. 

He wanted what was best for me and he tried to help me achieve it. Even when I was unsure of what I wanted. 

I would softly smile through my tear stained cheeks, breathing softly as I remembered. Someone was there for me, even when I could hardly see it. Gaining my strength as the redness of my cheeks flushed and the puffiness of my eyelids reduced down, I stood up and opened the door, leaving the darkness behind me. Following the soft glow from the kitchen, I saw him. My father and in that moment I knew I would be okay. 

He was always there for me even when I thought I was strong and didn't need someone to guide me. And even if it was just for a second all of my problems vanished as my father turned and smiled at me. 

I was at home where he was. And once he is gone, his memory will always be with me and with that I will always have a home.