For the hair's breath of a second today, I felt what my father feels about his daughter. For that tiny moment, I saw the fear, the constant worry, the anger at his angel getting hurt, and the fury at the person who had dared to harm her; the crescendo of Mozart's most famous opera. I understood what it meant to stay up all night worrying for her, for her safety, for who she was with, who she wasn't with, where she went and where she did not go; a tragic song that never ever quite comes to a conclusion. I figured out how it hurt, almost like cruel fingers on the fret board of an exquisitely delicate guitar, when she would ignore him, or hurt his feelings.
For a hair's breath of a second today. I felt what my father feels about his daughter.
The feeling was there. And then it was gone.