Clara
The support did not come as a grandiloquent speech or as an empty promise. It came in the simplest and most powerful way, someone believing in me unconditionally.
It was a quiet morning. Too quiet for my mind, which was still used to internal noise, to questions that would not go away, to the habit of always thinking in terms of someone else. I was in the kitchen of my parents' house, with a cup of coffee in my hands, looking out the window as if the garden could give me answers.
My father came in without making a sound, he was always like that. A man who did not need to impose himself to be noticed.
"Did you sleep well?" he asked.
I nodded. I didn't lie, I slept better than before. That already said a lot.
I was surprised by how time had the strength to heal things, to repair
