But something is missing. Something to bring him comfort. With limited resources, I pull out my journal and pen, tear out a page. I love you so much, I write onto a blank page before folding it into a paper airplane. However, as soon as it’s folded, I realize I have more to say. So, I tear out another page. You’ve always been enough, I write on this one, then fold. Then, again, I realize I’m still not quite done. You don’t have to fake it anymore. Tear, write, fold. I am sorry for not telling you how I’ve been feeling. Tear, write, fold. I am grateful for you, I promise. Tear, write, fold. I
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