I sat in the tub, shivering. Dad had left in the middle of my bath and I had no idea where he was. I was three and I remember every detail of this first time he left me. I remember staring at my loose littlest pet shops floating upside down in the water. That's how I felt that day. So helpless, alone, scattered, floating. Each one on their own. I stood up and carefully tried to climb over the edge of the tub to get out and find where my dad could have gone forty minutes ago while we were having so much fun splashing around. But as I was yelling "daddy" I slipped on the cold splash water on the ground. My knee was scraped and I cried I cried I cried I cried of course I cried because this was the first time. That my dad left.