Confession Confession is good for the soul. At least, that's what I hear. But I'm not feeling it. Sitting on a park bench, watching chubby legs propel a mop of shiny blond curls across the grass away from spider fingers wriggling in anticipation of a tickle fest. Laughter falls from the lips of father and daughter alike, burning my ears. No, I’m definitely not feeling it. Guilt washes over me, and my heart skips a beat when the little girl in front of my eyes pitches forward and nearly falls flat on her face – except for the strong arm that slides around her waist, lifts her up in the air, and starts twirling her around. Tears sting my eyes, and I have to look away. Full belly laughs assault my ears. I wish I could cut them off. I don’t want to feel like what I did was wrong. And watching them stirs up an ache inside my heart… one which brings exactly that feeling. I don’t need that. Not today. Still, wayward thoughts assault me as I wait. You took that away from