I feel like it is my duty to take care of my family, but at the same time I look over my shoulder and mourn the yesterday when I didn't know what selfish was and thus it was ok to be it. i wish i could wrap up my mom in words that would make her float softly to the ground and that my brother would see through his rage and that my father wasn't sick, that he was real, that i could believe in him. i miss him very much, and i worry i will never regain contact with him before he truly does get sick. there is still that hard place in my chest that I hit when I think of talking to him, and the rage that wells up is unmatched by any I have ever felt. papa, you weren't supposed to leave us. you weren't supposed to leave me. i know it's cheesy, but I still find myself staring down the long dark hallway of my twenty years and feeling the anguish of being a fat little girl and not finding what i am looking for. i wish i had my daddy back. i wish i could see him like i want to see him, instead of this sad echo of a man. can you believe his hair is all grey now?