June 18th 2023

As silence settles in the room around me, my eyes wander to the clock hanging on the wall.

9:23 p.m. I read. 

Time, it shifts ever so quickly, whisking the days by. I had not found what I was looking for. I had not found the words I sought. 

To call a man, with whom you’ve shared less words than moments of silence.

To call a man, with whom you balance loving with all your heart, and despairing with all your might.

How do you address the man, with whom you reap the widest rifts, but sow the deepest bonds? 

Bonds your pride would never acknowledge, but your fear of losing happily torments you with. 

Loss. My mind wanders upon that word. Lingering on every letter of the word as if dwelling upon them would ease the unease. 

Here is a man who taught me the meaning of picking back up, each time you fell. No one was coming, because no one really cares. 

In the teaching of this lesson I learnt two things. 

The first, is that caring had nothing to do with kind words and a gentle tone. To care is to arm with the ability of being “okay”, when you are no longer around. 

The second, is the question of whether I would be alright, when he was no longer around?

Nonsense, I think to myself. What good is dreading the loss of a man still within reach? 

Besides, I learnt his lesson long ago. 

Life could roll upon me like thunder through empty skies, and I would not blink. 

I learnt his lesson, and I hit the ground running long ago. 

I suppose that is what makes you that man doesn’t it, dad? 

You’re the man who cares.