Dear Dad,
Can I call you that? I have you in my phone by your full name, including the last name that you gave to both my brother and I. I'm not entirely sure where I want to go with this, but I need you to understand the hurt and the heaviness that I feel in my heart every day.
You never used to be like this. When you and my mom were divorced it seemed as though nothing had changed. Not that I could remember if things were different since I was two when it happened, but what I do remember is different from what you're like now. Growing up, I got to visit you every other weekend and it used to be my favorite thing in the world. You'd take us grocery shopping for our favorite snacks, no matter how unhealthy, rent a couple of movies, and tuck us in when we fell asleep. You taught me how to ride a bike and you bought me my first one, do you remember? It was pink and purple, with sparkly confetti coming out of the handlebars and sun gems that clamped onto the tires. You used to hold on to the end of the seat and run with me as I struggled to keep my balance. You would pick me up and brush me off every time that I would fall into the bushes that lined the beach path. After kissing my wounded hands, you'd sit me right back on the seat and tell me to try again. Teaching me how to rollerblade was the same thing, only you would hold my hand and glide with me. These are the moments that I miss the most and the ones that I wish that I could go back to.
When it was the end of the summertime, you'd take us school shopping and you made sure that we had everything we needed. The endless trips to indoor play centers, like Bonkers and Good Times, the trips to the movies to see the latest animation, and taking us go-kart racing are all memories that I have with you and ones that have stuck with me. Materialistic things aren't nearly as important as the times when you'd dance with me, my feet on yours, spinning around as our Spanish music blared on the speakers. It was the times when I would call you up on the phone after I received my quarterly report card to tell you my grades, and hearing you express how proud of me you were, that still linger in my mind.
One of the biggest mistakes that I have ever made was leaving my mother, when I was in the fifth grade, to go and live with you. It was a rash decision made by myself and my brother, but we wanted those happy times all of the time. I don't know exactly when things changed, but it didn't take long for things to feel different. Suddenly, I was up every night, watching you drink yourself into a coma and smoking cigars that plagued my lungs with their smoke as your music made the house shake. I was scared, so I left. I went back to something and someone familiar, my mom. If I had known that your anger from me leaving would leave my brother to experience your wrath, I would have endured.
You broke my mother's jaw and she found the strength to get away. You broke my brother's soul and he was able to travel as far away from you as he could, making something of himself when you told him he wouldn't amount to anything. You broke my heart, but here I am, still willing and still hoping that someday you'll want to be as much of a part of my life as I'd always wanted. What I'll never understand is how you could give up on two people who you helped to create, who will forever be a part of you. I recently found out that you're having a baby with your girlfriend. It's a girl. I hope that you'll use this as a fresh start. What I need you to understand now is that you don't deserve any piece of myself or my brother. You never will.
I love you and I forgive you, but don't you dare come for us again, you've had your chances.
Sincerely,
Your Daughter
