The wall between my daughter and me didn’t go up overnight but it felt like it did. One day Hanna was in the kitchen with me laughing about high school drama and teachers with bad breath and the next she was a ghost drifting through the hallways of our home. Every time I tried to reach out she slipped away usually with the same rehearsed line about going to see Grandpa Stuart. I tried to convince myself it was just a teenage phase or the natural pull of a fifteen year old seeking independence but deep down I knew something was fundamentally broken. I just didn’t realize that the person I shared a home with was carrying a weight heavy enough to crush an adult.
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