Daddy.

He used to hold my hand every night while he lay beside me and waited for me to fall asleep. We used to all sleep over in my parent’s room over the weekend and I remember reaching up from my mattress on the floor to hold his hand. I always slept on Daddy’s side. He was everything to me; invincible. He used to cover my ears with his big hands in the cinema when it got too loud. He used to bring special gifts for me and he always protected me when I was scared. I knew everything would be alright if he was around. I always knew we had something special. My first memory is of me sitting on mom’s car outside our house and I was talking to him, I asked him how old I was and he replied, “3+”. He always gave me the best and never tried to save when it came to me. When I got sick, he made sure I had the best doctors and spent thousands a night on a large room to myself in the hospital just so I was comfortable. I always knew he loved me special.

But then I grew up. I know he pushes me only because he wants me to succeed so badly. I love him because  he could have been selfish like other dads and made me stay behind. You know what they say, ‘if you love something, let it go.’

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