So many different questions race through my head at what feels like 100 MPH as I think about you. Many of these questions hold answers that I will never have the closure of knowing, and many of them just hurt to even ponder. There is no possible way that a child could understand, but even as a fully grown adult, I am still not able to understand you and the agonizing situation that you put me in. I have tried and tried to understand something that I never will. Why?
Growing up I was happy; my amazing mother always strived to give me everything I needed and many things that I simply wanted – by herself. Although I am still very young, as an adult, I am dumbfounded that any parent would willingly do what you so carelessly did to me. You let a child grow up thinking they weren’t good enough. I cannot even begin to understand the gut-wrenching questions I must have asked my mother about you. How was she supposed to answer them? How do you explain to a child that their father didn’t want them? There was a multitude of conversations that I should have had with my father, but you weren’t interested in those because you saw them as “inconvenient.” Even the simplest thing, like shaving or driving for the first time, I never had the opportunity to learn from my father.
There is an ever growing repertoire of accomplishments and failures that you will never know about. I have done things that I am so incredibly proud of that I should have been able to share with you, but you weren’t interested. I grew as a person in what feels like a million different ways – but you wouldn’t know anything about that. Even as I type this article, I am a first generation college student struggling to complete a degree, an experience that would certainly be easier with the support of a father. Don’t let these proud achievements of mine fool you. There have been several times when I landed smack on my face, and I had to learn to get back up without you. I have been so stupendously fortunate to have an amazing family in my life that helped me along the way, but that doesn’t pardon your lack of effort.
As I inch closer to parenthood (although far, far away), I am beginning to look at things a little differently. I'm so thankful I have realized that I am too good for you. You don’t deserve to be a part of my life. You threw that away years ago. There is almost a sense of irony from what you did to me because I will undoubtedly be a better father one day because of this experience. It is really sad to me to know that I once thought so highly of you. They say that time heals all wounds, but some wounds weren’t meant to heal; they were meant to be a lesson. As much as I want to, and I really do want to, I don’t hate you. I feel bad for you. I pray for you. I want the best for you, but the best for you will never include me, and I have finally become okay with that – once again without any help from you.
