Those were the days we wore our hair on the side, ponytails bobbing, not a care in the world, running on the school yard. Not contemplating the finite quality of life as we ran towards our fathers, so sure that they will always be there to collect us.
Now, even looking at the mirror at the wrong time, when your hair is swept to the side from the tossing and turning that you do with the weight of a thousand responsibilities on your shoulders reminds you the times you were truly happy and hurts you. Makes you face with the reality that never again will you be that carefree, happy, full of trust.
Broken inside. Healed on the surface, but fundementally broken with no hope of retalliation.
How do people live like this? How in the world our hearts dont just stop from this much suffering? Why doesnt it?
I dont have hopes, i dont think anymore. Just living. Day by day.
Wasting away the days waiting for our reunion. Hoping, praying for it to be real, for it to exist, for it to happen, so we can be whole again, without the fear of being apart.
Hoping and praying.
I miss you daddy. I love you.
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