I was 17 and sitting at my Daddy’s feet. Pouring out a heart that was filled with teenage emotions.
He patted my head while holding my hand and said “I knew the day you were born, though it was raining, you were the storm. I watched as you grew, and life happened to you that storm of water would eventually becomes freezing rain.”
I asked him what he meant, and he replied with this.
“On the playground you always sought the kids playing alone. You befriended them. Made them laugh.
Kept them entertained. Then their friends would show up, off they would go, leaving you behind. You never approached them again. Eventually, you no longer wanted to go to the park. You were nine years old when you threw out your dollies and I couldn’t get your nose out of books.”