Sunday, February 3, 2013

Dear Dad

Dear Dad,

I don't know what to say to you. I don't know where to begin or to end. Where do I even start? The beginning or the end?

Auntie says that I should forget you. That I am better off without you in my life. She says that you have done many horrible things, many awful things. She says I am better off without you. Maybe she is right.

My friends say that I should forget you. That I am better off without you in my life. That you are a druggie, a criminal. You are never going to change and what closure am I going to gain? What answer will I receive? Will reaching you give me any sense of peace? Will finding you give me any sense of closure? Or will it just bring me down further?

Am I using closure as a crutch, Dad? Do I need it to live? To move on?

Why do I even care anymore? Why do I bother? If you wanted to contact me you would, wouldn't you? You know where Auntie is, you could write her and ask her for my information. You could try. Does it mean that you don't care since you never ask about me? Or do you ask about me and she doesn't mention it because she is tired of me putting myself through all this?

Its my fault that you don't write anymore. That you haven't written in ten years. Nobody really knows that but me, so it is understandable that they can't comprehend why I try so hard to find you. And I need your forgiveness, Dad. I can live without the closure. I can live with you not caring about me anymore. But I need you to forgive me.

Forgive that thirteen year old girl who was trying desperately to recover from the loss of her grandmother. Forgive her for being hateful. Pardon her for hating you, at the time. She blamed you for Memere's death. But she was also hurting from promises that were broken as they were made. Forgive her for sending that hateful letter, so many years ago, saying she never wanted to talk to you again, because it was all your fault. Forgive her for falling prey to those horrible feelings building up in her chest.

Forgive me, Dad.

If I don't try to get your forgiveness, if I don't try to say I'm sorry, if I fail, I will never forgive myself. I can't live with myself, knowing that its my fault and that I didn't tell you I was sorry. Because I am sorry, Dad. I'm so sorry.

I miss you. I love you. I hate you. I wish you would give me some sign of something! Anything, really. I just want to know that sometimes you wonder about me. I just want to know that you can forgive my stupidity, that you still love me. Or feel some kind of emotion towards me.

And is that wrong? Is it wrong that I want this from you? I might receive some kind of closure, knowing I made the attempt. I tried. I worked hard, trying to fix it. Knowing it may never be fixed.

I've tried to cut you out of me. I've tried to drink you away. I've tried to lose you somewhere in my memories, far from me. I've tried everything I can think of to relieve this horrific guilt I feel for everything. I've been self-destructive and tried to rebuild. I've done things I'm not proud of, things I long to go back to, but I can't let myself. But in the end, you are a part of me.

You are in my smile, in my laugh. You are in my bloodstream, you are a part of me that I can never get rid of. No matter how hard I try. You are wired into me, just like our shared DNA. We are intrinsically entwined.

What do I do? Do I try to fix this? Do I let it go? Could I let it go?

Are you a crutch? Is this just a shameless cry for sympathy and attention?

I need some sort of resolution. What resolution do I expect? It has been ten years. Ten years and I can't forgive myself, or you. I can't let it go and I can't make it right.

So where does this leave us?

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