It's taken me 45 trips around the sun, but for the first time in my life I know what it feels like to have a "band-aid" in my own skin tone. You can barely even spot it in the first image. For real I'm holding back tears.
The silence of this Saturday is deafening. It screams,
Dead.
Hopeless.
Despair.
Disappointment.
Disillusionment.
Discouragement.
Defeat.
Doubt.
Fear.
Loss.
Sorrow.
Grief.
Regret.
Don’t give up hope, in the silent, agonizing, middle.
Tomorrow’s coming.
Always.
My dad is 65, pursuing a modeling career, and I’ve never seen him happier. He told me he’s just waiting for a chance to blow up. So, Twitter, meet my dad.