I long for my dad. On the day of his departure he held me tight.
"Six months," he said.
     He kneeled down on one knee  and wrapped his arms around my body. His hugs made me happy, just like the feeling you get when you take your first bite into a warm
chocolate chip brownie. I rested my head on his tough green and brown camouflage jacket. When he was around, I felt protected. Almost if I was Gotham City and he was Batman. He was my superhero. He gave me a kiss on my forehead and saluted me. I
saluted back.
"I'll miss you," he said to my mother.
     She was crying . But it was only six months It was only six months. That’s not too long. Right?
"I'll miss you too jellybean," he said picking me up and tousling my hair.
     Then he put me down, grabbed his things and headed off for a six month deployment.
The next morning I woke up to sunlight peering in from the corner of my window. I sat up, crawled out of bed and reached for my diaryon my desk. I flipped to the last page.
“Days without dad” I scribbled on the top. On the next line I drew a tally mark.
Six months! That’s like a bijillion days! Maybe if I try hard enough, I wouldn’t notice that he isn’t here. I thought.
     I crawled back into my bed and stared at the ceiling. The white paint was chipping by the corners revealing a hue of dark gray.
Maybe dad can fix that. He can fix anything.
     I couldn't do it. Memories of him inhabited the house like a ghost. I looked back at my clock. One minute had passed. I decided to get out of my bed again but this time walk to my mother’s room. I opened her squeaky door a tiny bit being careful not to make too much noise. Inch by inch I moved it until I could easily slide through. She was still sleeping so I slipped under the blankets. I looked for my dad. But he was gone for six months.This was when reality hit me. He was gone and six months was too long.
Who was going to watch endless reruns of cartoons with me? Who was going to make special Mickey Mouse pancakes for breakfast before I went to school? Who was going to kill the scary, long legged spiders on the walls? Who was going to read me fantasy stories, tuck me in under my warm, soft blanket, and tell me everything was going to be alright? Not him. Not for six months