I do.

I know this boy whose dad just died of a heart attack.

I think, "Is he safe?"

I surprise myself with how often this is the question in my mind.

I read this book on becoming happier.

It asks you to list the things that will make you happier.

I list "Feeling safe."

I ask myself, "Are you in danger?"

Yes, yes of course. I'm always in danger.

I talk to my mother about my father.

She says, "You don't understand."

I say, "I do, I do."

I do understand. My biological father wanted nothing to do with me. My adopted father tried for a time and then as if on a breeze, floated away. The rest and love faded too, aided by my own walk in the other direction.

So there I was.

Safe? There was always food, if that's the question.

I worry about the boy and being happier.