before i make another of these, i feel like let me tell you what "lessons from my dad" means.
i'm a living, breathing hero origin story - torn between innocence and brokenness. i lost my real dad when i was 11, had a mentor who became a dad to me almost a decade later - lost him when i was 21. both left before i could say what i have to say.
but they taught me to tap into... whatever this mind can do to some extent and it's unplugged me.
the brevity of the posts i create do little justice to the wisdom they left behind for me. honestly, i don't know that i 100% understand even a fraction. me, "given one of the best minds of my generation". i'm either a genius or the wrong guy.
there's a line i've been walking betwixt ordinary and extraordinary. before my dad died, my biggest problem ever in life was telling the girl i had a crush on that i liked her before she left for some other country, i... forget.
it was so surreal, losing him - like, it only sunk in when the funeral was over and everyone went home. but the mission prior was clear: keep it together. i cried once when i heard what happened and immediately swung into "make sure everyone else is okay" mode.
i saw gran and she clasped onto me like it was the first time.
or the last.
i said to her "i'm sorry. she said back to me "it is accepted". she died a couple months later herself; heartache, i suppose. the gravity of the situation hadn't hit me until my aunt told me that gran beat cancer.
you can get over pain in your body. you can't get over pain in your heart, at least not without the fight of your life, for your life.
the only thing on my mind was to make the load on everyone else easier to carry by not being a wreck myself, at least not showing it. no need to worry about me, right?
i was a couple weeks to school that year. my then teacher gave me her condolences and i felt everything that i hadn't.
so if i could share a lesson with you here, today, it's that the one who seems to be alright in and with life is probably not really.
i'm a living, breathing hero origin story - torn between innocence and brokenness. i lost my real dad when i was 11, had a mentor who became a dad to me almost a decade later - lost him when i was 21. both left before i could say what i have to say.
but they taught me to tap into... whatever this mind can do to some extent and it's unplugged me.
the brevity of the posts i create do little justice to the wisdom they left behind for me. honestly, i don't know that i 100% understand even a fraction. me, "given one of the best minds of my generation". i'm either a genius or the wrong guy.
there's a line i've been walking betwixt ordinary and extraordinary. before my dad died, my biggest problem ever in life was telling the girl i had a crush on that i liked her before she left for some other country, i... forget.
it was so surreal, losing him - like, it only sunk in when the funeral was over and everyone went home. but the mission prior was clear: keep it together. i cried once when i heard what happened and immediately swung into "make sure everyone else is okay" mode.
i saw gran and she clasped onto me like it was the first time.
or the last.
i said to her "i'm sorry. she said back to me "it is accepted". she died a couple months later herself; heartache, i suppose. the gravity of the situation hadn't hit me until my aunt told me that gran beat cancer.
you can get over pain in your body. you can't get over pain in your heart, at least not without the fight of your life, for your life.
the only thing on my mind was to make the load on everyone else easier to carry by not being a wreck myself, at least not showing it. no need to worry about me, right?
i was a couple weeks to school that year. my then teacher gave me her condolences and i felt everything that i hadn't.
so if i could share a lesson with you here, today, it's that the one who seems to be alright in and with life is probably not really.
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