You could only have been 19. Sat outside the shops on the bench next to me, pouring your heart out to who I can only presume is your Dad. Saying he doesn’t care but it’s clear that he does; he’s there and he’s listening, letting your snarky remarks bounce off him like rain. By the sounds of it, you’re blinded by love. We’ve all been there but sometimes we get caught up wearing those rose tinted glasses and the outside world doesn’t see what we do; the outside world sees it clearly. Your Dad is desperately trying to talk some sense into you, to get you to leave him; the…