The weather outside would have been nice if it hadn't been for the freezing ran.

Still, he trekked through the graveyard past the numerous headstones looking for his father's. He hadn't been to his father's grave site in over a year, perhaps even longer. It seemed like since his father's death the years ran all together and could be summed up into two periods, before and after his death. Before his father's death he was a child, young, naive, spoiled... happy. After his father's death he became a man, insightful, depressed, dissatisfied... lost. He pushed those thoughts out of his head. He promised himself he wouldn't cry although he was alone and even if he did cry the rain would disguise it. He promised himself he wouldn't cry because he knew with the tears would come the pain and the depression that wasn't so easy to get rid of. He knew it would glide in slowly, almost welcoming a release of emotion that had been pent up for awhile. Then it would stay, growing heavier and choking his judgment until it had over-whelmed him and all of his thoughts would be those of discontent, self-criticism and self-hatred. He had been there before, toyed with it from time to time, but didn't want to go there again. Instead he forced a smile, a smile that was a near mirror-image of his father's and remembered how much his father loved him and how much he loved his father.

Finding his father's grave site, he brushed away some dirt and cleared away overgrown vegetation. It was hard for him to look at the cold hard ground he was standing on and imagine his father's body underneath it. Instead he focused on the fact that he believed his father's soul was in Heaven and so he got on his knees and talked to both of his fathers. It felt like time stood still as he spoke of his loves and pains, his worries and desires. He felt like his father had been taken from him much too soon, but he tried not to focus on that or question God because he knew that it was God's and not his will. Still, trying to be a man without an example proved to be one of the hardest task he had ever faced. Part of him was so unsure of what it meant to be a real man that he was scared to live, to love, to procreate and scared not live, to not love and to not procreate. he was stuck in limbo, a caterpillar afraid to turn into a butterfly out of fear of not knowing what it meant to be a butterfly or how to fly at all. He let all those concerns and fears pour out of him and up to the sky until his soul felt exhausted from emotional strain.

He left his father with a loving prayer. Unable to restrain his tears, they ran down his face just as his father's blood ran through his veins. The rain had stopped, replaced by a rainbow and the unmistakable warmth that was his father's love.

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