Weirdest thing about growing up without parents and desperately trying to find parental figures through your childhood (and it’s like a puzzle piece trying to fit into other people’s puzzles) is when you find one when you’re not a kid anymore, at 18 or 19 or 20 or 25 or older. It feels too late in a lot of ways but you’ll yearn and want anyways. You’ll want so greatly but you’ll also just grin through it like it’s an inside joke instead of admitting it. Because it’s funny and ironic, isn’t it? To find what you’ve wanted all your life when you don’t need it anymore.











