The first day in a long time that I met all of my responsibilities. I woke up and left early and got home real late, like a real woman. Not to say I did it prettily. Coping by pretending that everyone is in love with you is unhealthy, but old habits die real hard. My father promised he’d meet me for the first time but I’m not sure I’m ready. I never will be, I don’t think. I don’t want to sound self-revering, but I imagine that’s what Jesus felt like. Later I loved people that I hated and found a bite-sized amount of happiness in the Dairy Queen parking lot. Absolutely wrecked my lungs from screaming old music that used to put me to sleep as a young girl. I’ve simultaneously realized that I’ll never see my dreams, and also lit a new passion for each and every fig.