In the process of finding me

 Fear of life has always deprived me of the opportunity to experience, and I have long since realized that nothing happens to those whose father died. I thought a lot if I had allowed myself to venture. What would’ve happened if I showed my weakness one last time?  Maybe, just maybe I would’ve had the chance to learn how not to fail again and again. 

I used to escape with the sound of music every time I faced something I thought was too big. I don’t know why I thought those things were big, but what I do know is that every time I ran away no one noticed anything except my dead father’s “Soul”. He was the only one who followed me with his quiet steps. He follows me and sits beside me, so close that I feel his warm breath. His pursuit of me was not of curiosity, but love. Or so I thought and wanted and believed.

Today I am afraid of loneliness.

 I disappear with the sound of water every time I meet a father. I stand awkwardly in front of them wanting to hug them all, and sometimes I think I have the right to do so. He no longer follows me around. I no longer hear his quiet steps behind me, nor feel the warm of someone sitting next to me when I’m alone. 

I do not know what to do!

In the past, when I had the opportunity to sit with him and feel his existence, I did not regret escaping from everything. With him loneliness seemed the best thing. But now I regret every time I run away and I don’t feel his footsteps behind me, and I crawl back to reality where there’s no music. This sense of loneliness I have never felt before. Loneliness within loneliness, without him I’m a library without a book, a book without words, and I can no longer live like this. 

If I can go back in time a thousand times, I will choose to sit behind the universe -with you dad- again and again…