bye baby bunting.

sometimes i think about my dad. i think about everything; the way his voice sounded when it screamed or hissed insults, the way his eyes looked when he told my sister and i that he loved us. i think about all the painful things, i think of all the happy things. during my childhood i had been blind to what was really happening, but the thing that i understood the most was the love my dad had for my sister and i. while the love may have been more of a possessive love, it was still real love in other ways. there were so many times my dad would go out of his way just to see us smile, just to see us happy. he taught us so many things and was the reason we had so many interesting experiences.
sometimes i miss the nature of my childhood, where i wasn't caged in by the tall buildings of the city and cool cement. i miss fishing and spending hours outside in the sun, my skin was always sun-kissed and my hair had started to turn blonde from it. i remember enjoying the feeling of grass beneath my feet, making up games in bushes with my sister and catching grasshoppers. i miss learning how to tie a  fly, casting it out into the lake and learning patience and how to be still and quiet. i remember my few moments of impatience, watching a fish follow my bait to the shore as i was reeling it in and how excited i was that i got to see it alive. i remember hiking up the mountain following train tracks with him, exploring a place that wasn't run down by city life. i remember the smell of hunting and sometimes, when i'm out and about, that smell hits me and i feel a pang of nostalgia. i remember the road trips and falling asleep in the back seat to the sound of my father singing to us, the lullaby that i still remember so clearly in my head. i can still hear his voice.

i really do miss my childhood, but knowing what i know now, it's a very good thing that we are no longer a part of that. things are better now, but i miss what it felt like to be truly alive and carefree.