• It’s really no secret that I’m a terrible sleeper.

    I’ve been that way most of my life and I doubt there will be any change in that anytime soon.

    I think I was about four or five, when one of these sleepless nights started to hit me.

    I’ll never forget the night I climbed up the stairs, and sat with my dad to watch Lord of the Rings for my first time.

    I’ve loved it ever since.

    Though as time passed, my father and I grew apart.

    A lot.

    I always knew that he would go all warrior Boromir on anyone who would hurt his baby girl.

    But, just like the One Ring drove Frodo away from the Fellowship, years of maturity and differences did the same for my dad and I.

    Sometimes, I wished I was Eowyn, in the retrospect that her fatherly-figure, said outright that he’d do anything just to see her smile again.

    But now I know that our relationship is a lot like the one between Lord Denethor and Faramir, that we were both too stubborn to admit that we were alike in more ways than we'd like to think.

    I miss those nights where we’d sit for almost nine hours straight to watch our favorite trilogy.

    I miss them a whole helluva lot.