I miss feeling secure.

Today I went for a drive with my dad on small back roads in small towns, whipping by small colonial homes with crippled fences and demolished stone walls. And the air smelled of dogwood flowers and wildflowers and fresh grass and resevoirs, and the trees bent low over the road and the sunlight was dapple-patterned as it snuck through the space between their leaves, and the seat was warm and my dad was smiling, and we were both quiet as we drove.

As the youngest child, it seemed everyone else's job was to look after and take care of me. I was responsible for no one but myself, and the security I garnered from the protection of my elders was immense enough for me to grow confidently into myself. My dad was a big part of that security system. At times he seemed overbearing and overprotective, which encouraged me to find and fight for my independence even more. And every time I failed to be strong, he was there for me.

When we came home this afternoon, I noticed my dad had turned pale. I got him quickly to the couch and gave him his medicine. Then, I held his hand as he moaned and shouted and cried, and I left his side once he finally fell asleep.

I have always been attracted to men who have wanted to look after me. I like the sense of protection I find in a relationship. I have someone to run to, someone to talk to, someone to hold me when I fall.

I wonder how long I have left with my dad. I worry that it isn't enough time, but that's a silly concern, because no matter how much time was left, it wouldn't be enough.

The men I have relied on so inherently have all seemed to leave me when I need them the most. I need them now. I find that without them, I have no basis to be independent. You need to have a safe base established before you can branch out on your own. And my base is cracking.

I love my friends, but it isn't enough. I feel so scared at the thought of being alone without the people I rely on the most.

I just want something to be stable for once.