𝑅𝑢𝑛𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑀𝑖𝑙𝑒 𝐹𝑜𝑟 𝑌𝑜𝑢

Chapter 9

Are you ok?

The number one question I got. Especially when my dad died. It was an accident. It wasn't your fault. It was a reassurance that my dad dying didn't have anything to do with me. But it did.

I felt lucky having my dad, knowing when I got home he'd be there with open arms and a big smile, begging me to tell him all about my day.

Saying we were close doesn't do our relationship any justice. We were father and daughter, a yin and yang drawn together by a bond no one understood.

When he left nothing made sense, it felt like he left me with two left shoes and a broken heart that would never be fixed.

He wrote me a letter. It's not like he knew he was going to die but when I was ten, he told me how he loved Mom's culture, his mouth would curl in this big smile and his eyes sparkled full of love. He learned Spanish, did all the native customs, and even tried to cook the dishes.

Some were successes and some were failures but with his smile and positivity, nothing seemed like a failure with him.

He told me how turning fifteen would be one of the biggest accomplishments of his life, so he promised that he would write a letter telling me how I would always be his baby girl.

A quince means becoming a woman, he told me I would be the best. But in his heart, I would always be the little girl trying to pick the perfect pink flower to match her pink princess dress.

I couldn't read it, I threw it out until I went back to find it. It laid on my desk for weeks, letting the dust settle and my thoughts scramble.

He protected me, loved me, and never shied away from a challenge. I felt like a coward like I was betraying him to let my life slip away and letting my guilt kill me.

It felt like someone took my soul and left my body. After a while, I couldn't cry anymore, life itself felt meaningless and the people I thought loved me all disappeared.

The therapist's visits started, which made me feel worse. Made me start questioning more than my guilt and emptiness.

The glue was gone, the house was blue, no one talked and I was alone I cried for help but nothing came out. I was punching the air, and all I wanted was answers.

No, all I wanted was my dad. Cheering me up with just his laughter and smile, keeping me safe with his words, knowing there was no place like in my dad's arms. I'll never feel that again, hear his voice, or even see his smile.

Falling down that rabbit hole. I felt nothing.

I ran and I didn't stop. My feet would swell, my lungs were crushing, and my body tired wanting everything to end, but I didn't stop. It was the closest thing to the feeling I felt when with my dad, I held onto that slither of sanity and chased it.

I found my dad.

We used to run, he'd train me saying 'being the best doesn't mean you come in first place, it means you worked the hardest you possibly can'.

He taught me that as long as I tried my hardest it didn't matter the way others categorized me because to me I was number one.

My dad ran with the wind, he wasn't fast but the wind was bonded in him. He ran as he breathed and no one could stop him.

He brought me in pushing me to be faster than the wind and faster than him, that whenever I felt the wind I felt him running with me.

Miles stopped me, he took everything I thought I knew and made me feel something different. I've been having to question myself these last two weeks wondering if I like him because he reminds me of my dad or because Miles makes me feel alive.