To a man who bought me my first book. and then bought me a book every day and read to me until I could read to myself.
To a man who always returned from the market with at least one rotten vegetable, he never bought what was fresh, he only bought what he wanted
To a man who took ridiculous pride in even my smallest achievements, who taught me to take pride in even my smallest tasks
To a man who disapproved of all my decisions but only opposed the small ones
To a man so imperfect, he instilled in me a lasting contempt for perfection
To a man who taught me persistance with a glass of milk every night. He warmed it and brought it to my desk, sweetened. Long after I kept telling him I cannot digest milk and I hate sugar with it. He never argued and he never stopped. He figured he could fix all my problems if I would just drink my damn milk each night
To a man who could never be there for me because he was too busy breaking his own heart each time I broke mine.
To a man with a voice so sweet I cried whenever he sang
To a man who loved me so unconditionally he set all standards for love in my heart. who set up an invisible force field to protect me from illusions simply by showing me what real love meant
To a man who was so afraid that his madness was all he had to give to me