Eighteen Years and (almost) a Month

December 17th(ish)

I’ll be back home taking in Parisian Christmas markets by the 17th of December. To say I cannot wait to get home is a bit of an understatement right up there with I hope I wish the United States hadn’t lost it’s goddamn mind.

But what are you gonna do?

I’m gonna go home to Paris. I literally just told you. Please do try and keep up.

There is a point to singling out the 17th of December this particular year and it has to do with math. You see, on November 19th I will have been without my father for 18 years. The first few I spent drunk and finding interesting ways to fuck up my life while alienating all the people guilty of the crime of loving me. And though I have been sober almost twelve years now the void left by my father’s absence is as big as Uranus.

Don’t act like you didn’t laugh and roll your eyes at that.

He was my center. From the moment I was born to the moment he breathed his last he was the single constant throughout my life. My rudder, my sails, my true north were all go…