I HATE saying goodbye to people. I hate saying goodbye to people that I have spent so much time with over the years. Saying goodbye to childhood friends after a weekend together is hard. Saying goodbye to the place I grew up is hard. Saying goodbye to my home church is hard. The worst is saying goodbye to my Daddy. I am my father’s daughter.
We both try to hold it in: our anxiety, our sadness, our anger.
We both let it out at the wrong times: our obnoxious laughs, our tears, our anger.
We both love in unconventional ways: awkward moments of divulging how we feel, a little yelling and a lot of apologizing, loyalty forever.
We don’t always get along. We haven’t always seen eye to eye. Our history has not always been rosy. But our future is one of the things I look forward to the most. With all the ups and downs my daddy and I have had we have learned HOW to love each other. We have learned how to react (or not react) and how to apologize from watching each other. My daddy is my biggest hero.
Saying goodbye to the man that has taught me how to love myself first and then love others unconditionally is the most difficult thing I have to do on a regular basis. I hate saying goodbye to the man that has lead the way in front of me, changing the parts of you that are the hardest parts to change. The tears in his eyes when we pull apart tell me he feels the same.
I HATE saying goodbye. I HATE leaving my daddy.