I woke up to a new message in my inbox, a long letter from an old friend I haven't seen or spoken to in three years. I was surprised, of course, to see his name staring at me from the computer screen, and I wondered what he might want or what the message might regard.
As soon as I opened it, I wasn't surprised to see that it was about my father. In fact, I was quite glad that it was, since he was one of the few people I could actually relate to. His words defined every feeling I couldn't name; every thought that seemed like an enigma suddenly underwent a moment of realization, and I finally felt like I wasn't alone, like I was normal.
I didn't really want to tell anyone about it, because I wanted it to be between the two of us, a silent understanding of fatherless teens. But I found his words too beautiful and inspiring to be locked away from others, so I wanted to share it with you. Beauty that is shared only multiplies, so here is a part of the letter:
A last word of encouragement: sometimes it feels like things are going to be okay, and other times you'll feel like things will never be okay.
No one can truthfully tell you that things are going to be ok in the end, because nobody knows how it'll turn out in the end. That being said, what you choose to believe doesn't always have to be based on proof. Call it optimism or call it faith, but I think that if you start believing things will work out in the end, they just might.
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