on a day like today

Most people I run into have issues with their dad, but I really love mine. He's absolutely wonderful and I love everything about him except for one thing:

He's not here.

I don't mean to say that he died. He's alive. It's just that he's many hundreds of miles away from me. I remember that his name was Johnny for a long time. I met him when I was 8 because my mom thought it was time.

I found out all sorts of things. I had other brothers and sisters and even a stepmom. New things. All of it. Took me years to say the word "dad" and see him when I said it. I worked very hard for that. I visited every summer I could for a long time. My grandma Overton probably thought I just like grandma Dugger more, but it was just that it gave me time to see him again.

We were so much alike. We could talk for hours, he loved walking and looking around and he was fine with letting me play video games and walk on the beach. He always wanted to be with me as much as he could and I could tell.

Then college came up, and working with that. When I graduated, he made every effort to be here and I had my second cup of White Chocolate Mocha with him. It was a really hot day, too. I held him like I would never see him again that day.

It has been a little over four years since that day. I was okay with just keeping the thoughts abstract until my brother, Zion, whom I have not seen since he was three years old, added me on twitter today. I smiled thinking of him, but thinking of him reminded me of my dad. He's with him right now and I am here, being an adult, trying to make sense of all of this madness and be the best man I know how and working a lot and I can't just drop everything and go to New York and hug him. I wish with all that I am that I could, but instead all I feel like doing is crying.

This has to be the worst timing in the world -- I'm working on a critical work-related project, but can't focus because I'm so out of it.

I miss you, Dad. I miss you and trains, and coffee, and the fact that you like me. You don't think there is anything wrong or odd about me in spite of everything else I've heard in my life. I miss your laugh, I miss looking at you and seeing myself. I miss your dreadlocks and your booming, house-filling laughter. I wish I had more time to talk to you about everything -- I can't even remember all the things I've wanted to ask you over the years. I hate the fact that you're not here. I just sent you a picture and a text message, but it's not the same and you being here...

This doesn't feel good at all.