I used to believe in smiling when you say good-bye, that down to the last second you have with a person you should be grinning. Right up to the last time I saw my father before he left, I was smiling, waving with a grin. I should have sobbed, I should have told him I love him, to stay. I believe in using those last minutes to say what I think, to shamelessly beg, and I no longer hold back.
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