Time seemed to have stood still. I don’t know how long we had been standing there. But I was within my father’s arms. He was holding me close to him, like his life depended upon it. I cannot remember the last time my father had hugged me... But what shocked me more, was despite all he had heard, he had not pushed me away. He had listened. He had not told me I was a failure as I had feared. He accepted my dark truths. And now he held me within his arms, seemingly providing himself with as much comfort as he offered me. My father was struggling as much as I was. He had battled the pain of guilt for so long, and now it appeared to have flooded to the surface.
“So what happens now?” I whispered, dreading the answer, but deep down knowing I could not continue along this path. Hearing the trut
