My father and I sat on either ends of the wooden table in silence. Both of us waiting for the other to make the first move or utter the first words. I couldn't be the first, in fear that I would say everything that I've been feeling and holding in for the past 10-years in the wrong way.

After 10 minutes, he spoke up. 

"You've grown. You were this tall when I last saw you." He gestured his hand just above the table, indicating the height he last saw me. 

"10 years of growth." I said simply, but meaning both size-wise and emotionally. 

"I heard you're going to college this fall."

"You heard right. Stanford freshman in August." I said, getting excited. The two sentences we exchanged brought the same childhood thrill I had over ten years ago when he was still an active part of my life. For a moment, I forgot all he put us through and it felt like us again. 

He bowed his head into his hands and again, we fell into quietness. He stayed this way for a beat then lifted his head. I looked my dad in his eyes, and he looked into mine. Slowly, tears welled up in his eyes and rolled down his face. Each tear, an undeniable watery apology for everything he put us through. His unheard begs of pardon tugged a string in my heart, warming the cold beating organ. 

"I can't do this." He whispered then pushed his chair back and made his way to the door. 

He moved in slow motion as my mind processed a million thoughts.

As a child, I never fully grasped the concept of my dad's departure. I remembered everyday I wrote a note saying how much I loved and missed him and left it on his side of the bed, hoping he would see it when he returned. 

As a young teenager, I hated him— I thought I did. I started to understand exactly why he left and the damage he'd done to my mom and I. 

In high school I longed for my dad to take me to prom, to watch me open my college results and this is when I realized I didn't "hate" him, I craved his fatherly presence.

Watching him slowly walk away flashed all our memories through my mind. Ten years ago I couldn't stop him from leaving but I now have the chance and the power to stop him from abandoning me again. I ran up to him and hugged him tightly.

"I love you dad. I missed you. Please don't leave." For the first time in awhile, I openly admitted and showed my fondness for my father. 

"I love you more than anything, Bubble bee." He referred to me as that silly nickname from before. In that moment, everything stilled and his warm embrace reminded me of home. 

Sometimes I wished he never left, but maybe if he didn't I wouldn't appreciate his presence this much.