He used to see him as a superhero. He used to see him this way, to get reassured maybe. At least, he had a dad. Not somebody he could call at night when ghosts came, or with whom he could play endless games.
His dad was just a photography, something he could look at when times were tough, when his only wish was to meet him. When my only one was to protect him. I doubted it but never changed my mind.
Now, he knows. It’s better and yet the superhero died, once and for all. His dad is just somebody he has to visit once a month for an hour and a half. He knows now that he was never like the other dads, that his mind played a movie so he could feel safe, so he could feel he was part of the big family plan. And not so alone.
It’s tough seeing him uncovering the truth. And yet it had to be done. His dad has to fall off his pedestal. He has to become man again.
It’s better than keeping the dream alive.
Bliss & Kiss 