2:00 a.m.

I had a dream about my father one night.

He and my mom were separated when I was young,

I remember the only picture of him

in the house

was on my nightstand.

When I was upset

I would hold the frame and study it,

while fighting off tears.

A picture of me and him

in a bar.

I was sitting on his lap wearing his cap

which was a few sizes too big,

and we were laughing.

 Happy.

It was a common practice for my six year old self.

I had always thought that if he were there,

that life would somehow be better,

that everyone would be happy.

I don't know why I thought that but I did.

Years later, I am an adult

and I dreamt that I was that age again

and I walked out my bedroom door 

in the dead of the night

and I was met with my parents talking in the living room.

I was so excited

I called out for my dad,

and when he saw me he stopped what he was doing

and walked out the front door.

I wish I still had that picture,

but it's gone somewhere.

Disappeared.