Today I heard my dad's voice, for the first time in almost three years. I remembered our last conversation, I was 17 and hurt. His voice was cold, it's like he was possessed, there was not a hint of warmth inside him. There was so much I needed to say but I couldn't. My lips froze and my mind went blank. That conversation haunted me for months. It's like I spoke to an ice sculpture.
Today he was warm, and loving, and funny. As I saw his name on the screen I hesitated, nervous to speak to him. How sad when it comes to this, when a conversation with a parent is something out of the ordinary. I wish he never left. I think my life would have been beautiful.