We live in the same house.
I wake up at 5:30. He wakes up at 6.
I leave school around 6. He gets off work at 4.
The television saves us from any possible awkward silences during
dinner.
That's about it.
A communication barrier separates us, different native languages, so
given the opportunity to talk, I'm not able to find the right words to
describe my feelings and news to him. I don't know how to express the words
to tell him why I'm upset, and he never knows the full extent of my
happiness. The characters I do know would come out fumbled on my lips and
pronounced with a weird accent.
There was a time when we didn't need to speak at all. I would be
delighted with a kid's Happy Meal from McDonald's and a visit to the pond
where some people would have little sailing boats. Near three o'clock I would
be exhausted just from laughing, and he would be satisfied that he was able
to make me smile.
Now, our Wednesday afternoons are no longer possible. His one day off
during the week has been changed to Tuesdays, and I'm a high school girl
already with worries about college and the future. I am no longer the
9-year-old little girl who is able to go on walks to the park and visit the
beach with her father.
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