Sunday, my dad came up to see me in my apartment. He told me I looked sad and wondered what was wrong. Just because he said that, I felt choked up all day, like I wasn't sure if that time together would be the last of our father-daughter time for a few months. Plus, what he said showed me that he still knows me and that he isn't blind to what goes on, despite the fact that Nancy has covered my dad and trapped who I knew before their marriage in some cage in the basement. We had a great time together Sunday, but the conversation never went too deep because I feared that if I skimmed the surface too much, I'd start crying.

I had already bawled on my birthday. Nancy made me feel guilty about not going down to their house to visit my dad enough.

"He really wishes you would come down more."

So I was listening to the radio on my way to work and Fleetwood Mac's "Landslide" comes on. I try not to cry by thinking, "What the hell is wrong with me?" I just miss him. I don't think I miss the Old Regime but I miss what Dad and I used to have: an open, communicative, full-of-humor relationship. I think I can get that back, but it's going to be a lot of mutual work.

J. comes home this weekend. I'm going to a summer Solstice party on Saturday afternoon and then I can pick him up at the Marine base in the evening. I miss him. But the funny thing is, I've survived without him. There was never a question whether I would or not, but in a way, I've only lived for myself, which has felt great. I will have time for that, too, because I'll be working up to that crazy 60 hours a week again, but I still need to make sure I get the "alone time" I need at home.