It looks a lot like tug-o-war.  Sometimes, it’s running to the nearest bathroom stall in the middle of a night out because you’re so tempted to give in. It’s clasping both your hands tightly into a prayer as you whisper to the wind—God,

Disclaimer: I love my father very much. I may not have grown with him or had a healthy father-daughter relationship with him, but deep in my soul I care for him tremendously. I understand that we are all broken and wretched, and the