I was only nineteen the first time we found out my dad was sick, and the one person I wanted comfort from was him because that’s how it works. Parents take care of their children. Then suddenly, I was taking care of him. I wanted to cry and tell him how scared I was. I wanted to admit everything I was worried about so he could tell me not to be. But he was scared himself, so I pretended I wasn’t, and I’ve been pretending ever since.
