In some universe next door where everything is the same but for minor discrepancies, I did not become your father. Some almost-identical version of myself is sat at some almost-identical desk right now with a great hole in his heart he never found the occasion to fill, because he never found anything to be proud of, or to love. But I have been lucky enough to live in this universe where this man has something to be proud of, and to love, and she is the brightest and kindest daughter any father was ever blessed to have.
