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January 15, 2021
After my father left, it was as if nothing happened. I was old enough to know I should expect some sort of disarray after a major change like this. In movies, the protagonist stays in bed for days and neglects chores. Save for a lonely glass of water and a half-finished soda bottle in the sink (presumably my father's?), the house was in order and my mother was chipper. In therapy I would look back on this anomaly as a factor in my confusion about how to deal with sadness. For so long, I thought it should never exist.