Joshua Nichols

2 December 1969 -

Dad

2 December 1969 - 7 October 2013

Dear Dad,

I am writing this with a heavy heart, heavy hands, heavy eyelids, my God everything is heavy since you’re gone. Like Atlas with the enormous weight of the world on his shoulders, I am left weighed down by you leaving. I don’t think I’ll ever understand why you and Mom fell apart, I’m not so sure I want to, I just know I wish you didn’t.

As much as I don’t want to admit it, I do miss you. A lot. Every day. And I wonder if you miss us tooo. I forgive you for everything you did. I know I said some things I shouldn’t have either, but I get my temper from you, and I’m sorry. As you’ve said so many times before, it takes two to tango.

I wrote a poem for you a while back, I’d really like to share it with you. It’s about change.

It's been one year
Eight months
Three days
15 hours
And 39 minutes*
Since you walked out of the door
And out of my life

I used to count the seconds too
But like you,
They are constantly changing.
And like me,
I just couldn't keep up anymore

*40 minutes
And I'm trying to imagine all that I want you to know
My favorite color is mint green
I love the smell of libraries
I can eat spaghetti for the rest of my life
I haven't killed a bug in over eight months
I am full of weird anecdotes and too many doubts
Sometimes I keep to myself
Other times I can't shut up

*41 minutes
And I'm trying to think of how it would be
If you stayed
Would I still sing in the shower just for the hell of it?
Would you still look at me the same since I told you I hated you?
I don't know if I want to know

*42 minutes
I guess you're not the only one who changed
I pierced my ears again
I got a job
I have a car and all the freedom that comes with it,
As long as I'm home by one in the morning.
My eyes aren't sad anymore
My favorite place is no longer my bathroom floor

*43 minutes
This is the first poem I wrote since I graduated,
And I hate that it's for you

Some things never change.

Some things do change, however, and I am beginning to comes to terms with that. We all know now that this has been a long time coming; you started packing your things when I was in sixth grade. I guess that's why it doesn't hurt so much anymore. It seems every day I make a list of all the things I want you to know about me. These are just the highlights of the last three years. I have won awards and contests for my poetry. I have been published in print and online. I am now writing for this online platform called Odyssey. I finished my varsity track career with three records at Sandburg. I graduated in the top ten percentile of my class. I modeled prom dresses. I competed to be the South Side Irish Queen; I didn’t win, but I still tried. I survived my freshman year of college (and only dropped one class). I am a retreat leader. I still have my job. I still have my Bug. I have a boyfriend. He goes to school with me, he’s a Computer Science major. You would have liked him. I’m dealing with my anxiety and depression better than I ever was before. I hope you’re proud of me. I just wanted to be good enough for you.

A while back before we moved out of our old house, I found a picture of us from when you took me to a Daddy-Daughter dance. It broke my heart because I spent the whole day watching "Say Yes To The Dress" and wondering if you would make it to my wedding to dance with me then.

Tonight I found a picture
I was a princess
And you were the king.
You wore a suit
I was in a little pink dress.

My hair was braided
You had a mustache.
You held onto me
And I didn't want you to let go.

You never smiled in pictures
But this one you did
I almost wish you didn't

Tonight I found a picture
I am crying
And you are gone

My hair is long
And yours is a mystery

You let me go

I almost wish you didn't.

I found a card you gave me on my first birthday. You signed it, “I will never let you go.”

Dad I don’t know where you are, or who you are, or how it all got to be this way. I wish the last time we talked wasn’t a fight over text where I told you I hated you and you said you didn’t want anything to do with me. I know you didn’t mean it. I deleted your contact after that. I almost wish I didn’t. If I could, I would go back and change that. I haven’t heard from you since, and I think that was back in February. You missed my 19th birthday. You missed Mother’s Day. It’s now Father’s Day and I’m left here holding the paper mache box I made for you in second grade. You forgot to take it with you when you packed your bags, it had all of my love inside of it.

I miss being your Monkey, your Beefstick, your Peeps. I miss goofing off with you. I miss how you would always make me laugh harder than anyone else could. You know, if you ask anyone, they’ll tell you I have your sense of humor. Mostly, I miss your big bear hugs. They always made me feel invincible, like nothing could ever hurt me. I miss you being my second biggest fan (next to Mom, of course).

Mostly, I miss you.

I know you're not the same man we all thought we knew and loved. I don't know how it changed, but I guess that's the narcissist in you; you only care about yourself. As sad as it is, I think everyone is better off this way.

If this letter happens to find you, please know that I don’t hate you for what you did to us anymore. Three years of suffocating has been far too long. I forgive you, but you are who you are.

Xoxo,

Peeps