There are things I never managed to explain to you. I thought we would have more time. I thought I could teach you everything you needed to know before life became complicated.
But I never finished the workshop. I never finished the desk. And I never told you that I was afraid.
I was afraid that you would spend your life believing you had to earn love by being useful. I saw you doing it even when you were young. You thought that if you worked hard enough, fixed enough things, and never disappointed anyone, people would never leave you.
Son, people leave for reasons you cannot control. People die. People change. Sometimes you must leave them, too.
Your job is not to build a life in which nobody can hurt you. Your job is to build a life worth living even though you know they might.
If you ever meet a woman who lets you be quiet without making you feel invisible, who tells you the truth without making you feel small, and who can stand beside you without asking you to become someone else, do not run from her because the life you have known feels safer.
