Disclaimer: I own noting

A/N: Clois at the end.

Clark woke up with a smile on his face. But as quickly as it came, the smile faltered as he realized what day it was. "Has it really been a year?" he asked himself quietly. He let out a sigh as sadness washed over him. He felt a twinge in his heart and forced back the tears that were threatening to fall; however, he was unsuccessful as tears glistened in his eyes.

"I won't cry" Clark told himself as a lone tear unhurriedly trailed its way down his cheek, and onto his shirt. Clark promised himself that he wouldn't cry over his father's passing; he knew that Jonathan Kent was in a better place now and no one could harm him. But that didn't stop Clark from crying. He missed his father and it was hard for him to talk about his father's death. The memory of his father's passing was still so vivid that it brought tears to his eyes.

At the time, he didn't cry in front of anyone, especially his mother. As much as he wanted to cry at the funeral, he didn't. He kept his tears inside because he needed to be strong for her.

He knew that Jonathan wouldn't want him to cry over his passing, but now Clark couldn't help himself. Whenever things got overwhelming, he would silently weep; his long time mentor wasn't there to help him anymore. He couldn't run to his father for advice whenever he reached a fork in the road. He still had his mother, but ever since she became Senator her workload had become tedious, and he didn't want to add anything to his mother's plate.

Clark rolled out of bed; it was time to go visit his father. Thirty minutes later Clark was making his way to his father's resting-place. When he finally reached his destination, he stood silently before the grave for a few minutes before he spoke.

"Dad… I miss you so much." His words barely came out as a whisper. He took a rigid breath and continued, "Sometimes it's hard for me to believe that you're gone…I always feel your presence. Everyday I go out to the barn in hopes that you're there and that everything that happened this past year has just been one big nightmare." More tears streaked his face as the one-sided conversation progressed.

"It feels surreal. It's as if I'm living in a dream. I have this odd sense of detachment from everything. The only thing that's real is what I feel."

"I'm so lost dad," Clark spoke through the tears that covered his face. "I don't know what to do. It's as if I'm drowning and no one's helping me."

The young youth closed his eyes and started reflecting on the past year. He opened his eyes as he remembered what Lois had once suggested to him: that he should put his journal to good use and write whenever he felt the need to. And that's what he did. He inscribed a letter addressed to his dad as if somehow he could get a reply.

Clark kneeled down before his father and started talking about what Lois had done for him. "Lois gave me a journal for my birthday. She basically said that I should write in it whenever I want to brood. It's helped ease the pain, but it's still there. Help me, Dad. Help me heal and help me become the man you want me to be."

He took in a breath, and whispered, "Show me the way."

Clark didn't know how long he sat there motionless. He finally moved when he felt a hand rest on his shoulder. He knew it was Lois without turning around, he could recognize her warm and soothing presence anywhere. His hand found hers and gently covered her petite, yet comforting hand.

The moment her hand touched his shoulder, a strange feeling overcame him. He couldn't explain it, but somehow he knew that his prayer had been answered; his father had sent him Lois. She would be his guiding light.

Fin