Old and Tired

He remembered that night.

He loved her and she loved him but she was different and he well just didn't want that.

But he saw her pleading eyes as he cut her off asking why why why are you putting your biases in front of the love of your daughter. But he shook his head.

And and do you want me to be the same as everyone else for me or for you?

He stepped ever closer to the end, now, spending his days dreaming of how lovely she was. How beautiful. And what he'd say if he got the chance.

This is what he was reduced to. He sat alone in his house, old and tired, asking himself why humans spend so much more time over what they don't have than what they do.