I THOUGHT THAT I WAS DREAMING WHEN YOU SAID YOU LOVE ME..

I remember being alone in my Mom and Dad's room, at around the age of 8. I remember staring at the ceiling, trying hard to see my Dad. Searching and searching, seeing strobes of color from looking at the light too long, but never seeing him. I begged for it. I pleaded to the ceiling, to give me anything. "GIVE ME ANYTHING!", I sobbed. I'd spend hours here, I never let my pain show. I hid my pain from Mom, because even at 8, I understood I had to be strong for the both of us. These ceiling searching moments were the only time I ever showed weakness. Waiting. Waiting for Dad to tell me he existed, that he didn't leave me.

Every new moment of pain, I still find myself, looking at the ceiling, searching for answers I never receive. I pay close attention to different sounds, the slight buzzing of a light, the creaks of my house, the wind against the window, a car driving past, but none of it is ever what I'm looking for. I'm not even sure I know what I'm looking for, ever. But I know it isn't *this*.

I'm really sad right now. I feel really empty right now. I'm an atheist now, so I no longer search for spirits, for voices, for faces, but for some reason, I just can't stop searching the ceiling for something real. Perhaps it's still *wishing* on Dad, perhaps it's less.

I thought that I was dreaming when you said you love me
The start of nothing
I had no chance to prepare
I couldn't see you coming
The start of nothing
I could hate you now
It's quite alright to hate me now
When we both know that deep down
The feeling still deep down is good
If I could see through walls, I could see you're faking
If you could see my thoughts you would see our faces