Don't Confuse Your Grief With Guilt.

I Look Older. Maybe It's The Short Hair Or Maybe It's Just That I Wear All That Has Happened Like A Mask. Either Way, I Always Thought I Would Be Happy When I Stopped Looking Like A Child. But All I Feel Is A Lump In My Throat. I Am No Longer The Daughter My Parents Knew. They Will Never Know Me As I Am Now.

I Was Still Afraid Of Him, I Knew, But In A Different Way - I Was No Longer A Child, Afraid Of The Threat My Terrifying Father Posed To My Safety. I Was A Man, Afraid Of The Threat He Posed To My Character, To My Future, To My Identity.

I Forgot My Watch. Minutes Or Hours Later, When The Panic Subsides, That Is What I Most Regret. Not Coming Here In The First Place - That Seemed Like An Obvious Choice - But My Bare Wrist, Which Makes It Impossible For Me To Know How Long I Have Been Sitting In This Room. My Back Aches, Which Is Some Indication, But It Is Not Definite Enough.

Shh,” I Say. “arms Around Me.” Obediently, He Slips Both Arms Around My Waist. I Smile At The Wall. I Am Not Enjoying This. I Am Not, Not Even A Little Bit, No.

In Some Parts Of The Ancient World, The Hawk Symbolized The Sun. Back When I Got This, I Figured If I Always Had The Sun On Me, I Wouldn't Be Afraid Of The Dark