My dad was standing in the loft when I came home from work.
He was already brewing with a question.
And strangely, I knew what the question was going to be. It was bound to be asked sooner or later. Especially since I am now entering my 30s.
"Do you... want... to get married?"
"Yeah... I just haven't been actively looking."
The conversation continued. And once it finished, I went to my room and cried. I wasn't sure how to answer him. I didn't know what else to say. How am I supposed to tell my father that nobody wants his daughter?
YOU ARE READING
Finding Joy
PoetryI never spent time seeking joy. I only spent time making a bed comfortable enough in sadness to bare it. Now, I'll see and work at finding joy. This is a continuation of "We Are the Normal Ones: Memoirs of a Fallen Human".
