Today I was shaken by something that a little boy said to me. We were all outside, me and the Sohmas, having a good time. I was telling them a story about my mom, something she'd said to me one time in order to cheer me up. Hiro, the adorable little sheep, came up to me and asked me why my mind was so full of thoughts about my mother, while I never mentioned my father. I practically felt my heart drop and crash into pieces inside me. It was as though I'd always been waiting deep down for this question to be asked, always anticipating it, and dreading it. I was speechless and simply looked at him and then walked away. I knew that if I stood there much longer, I might burst into tears.

Thinking about my father is not one of my favorite past times. It's actually very painful. I'd liken it to dragging your hand across a wooden plank and getting several splinters caught in it. But after Hiro said this, all I could think about was my dad, whether or not I liked it. I could vaguely recall his kind eyes, how he used to carry me around on his back and call me his baby. He died when I was three years old, so I hardly have any detailed memory of him.

And yet I hate him.

He is the reason I could never be good enough for my mother, no matter how hard I tried. I wanted to be kind like him….loving like him...respectful like him. I wanted to be the friend that everyone wanted, the daughter my mother always dreamed of having and loving. At the end of the day, I would stand in front of my mirror and all I saw was a sad little girl who had no idea who she really was.

Maybe I don't want to know who I really am. Is there even a 'true person' inside of me? Maybe I'm nothing but what others want me to be. As sad as it, I think I have learned to be content with that.

No, I don't have any happy memories of my father. None beyond him picking me up and giving me horesey rides and him kissing me and my mother and telling us that he loves us. And it pains me to say it, but he was still the most perfect person I could ever have imagined. In a way, even more perfect than my mother.

Why don't I think about him?

Because I am him. I am his spirit brought back to life to make sure that my mother doesn't feel so alone. I am what my mother wishes me to be. I am better than the old Tohru was, and of that much I am certain.