A really touching and very relatable piece, Marc. My dad left when I was 3, having cheated on my mum with a much younger woman. I had Wednesday evenings at McDonalds with him and weekends. Then just weekends. Then a fortnightly visit.

After a few years, the woman he cheated with left him for somebody else, too. After that, I didn't see my dad for a year. The last thing I remember was realising that he wouldn't get out of bed - I didn't know why then, but realise now that he was simply heartbroken.

He wasn't necessarily a good role model - he was, of course, a cheat for one thing but also prone to rage and often would shout. He once threw a fan at my older sister, though I don't remember that so well. But the fact remains that without a father figure, or ANY male figure in my life since 2014 when we moved away without contact, I feel I am far from realising or understanding what it really is to be a man.

Maybe that's largely because I'm still young. But all I have had to look up to is in media - musicians and actors and whatnot. I don't know how to shave or tie a tie, to this day. I oscillate between a variety of masculine ideals that I have found myself over time and looked up to - some days, the ideal looks like Clint Eastwood (funnily enough), other days, a far more gentle character, maybe a Loyle Carner.

Not knowing how difficult it is for other men to figure out where they stand and what is good for them in terms of masculinity makes things worse - I don't speak to many people at all, these days - but I do wonder what things would look like had I even maintained some contact or had somebody to ask those questions to had I felt the need. By now, it feels as though our two roads (as it were) are too separate to conjoin at a later date. But I may be wrong. We're all still growing.