I think this will be my last post on this topic. This is an excerpt from a novel I wrote in 2016 called, “Letting Go of Pluto.” (It has not been published.) Here is a conversation between the two characters, Penny and Miles. It sums up what I need to say on this topic:
“You want to know what’s the worst form of loneliness?” Penny rolled over on her side to look at me. “The loneliness of being misunderstood. That’s the absolute worst, when someone doesn’t get you at all. And maybe they even accuse you of having entirely different motives than you do? And nothing you say could ever convince them otherwise, so you just accept that they have completely misunderstood you and you can’t fix it.”
“The loneliness of being misunderstood.”
“Yeah. I hate that. That’s why I don’t feel like I even have a dad. I mean, I have this man who lives with us and he’s my dad alright, but he doesn’t even know me.”
I nodded, unsure what to say.
“I bet your Dad wouldn’t be like that. I bet he’d be totally into you. I bet he’d try to get to know you.”
“We’ll never know.” I picked up the CD case she had on next to her. “I don’t think I’ve felt misunderstood to the degree you’ve just described. I had my grandpa and he knew me even better than I knew myself. Like some of those things on his list? It’s like he predicted I’d need help in certain areas. He totally got me.”
“It’s good to be got.”
“It is. I think it is rare and wonderful.”
db hargis 
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