Just a girl and her dad and their early morning serious sides. Yesterday, we dropped her off at kindergarten and the look in her eyes clenched our hearts with its tiny fists and pleaded with us not to leave her there. Today, the look in her eyes keeps us at a distance and tells us she wants to go. And this is just the way of it.
There are parts of my life story I detest and wish I could rewrite. It’s further insult on top of injury that these parts were written for me, against my will. And though I can’t edit them to make them prettier or more palatable, I can write the rest, the endings, the rebuttals. And I can write in hopes of protecting all of our children.