This letter, to the first man who broke my heart, has been long overdue. Well, here goes everything.
Dear Dad,
I loved you with everything I had; when you and mom didn't work out and I had hope for years that you would get back together, when you didn't come to my high school graduation, and even when you didn't come to any of my high school or college soccer games. I loved you from the day I was born until the day you decided my love wasn't good enough, that seeing me didn't benefit your life, or that you felt your presence wasn't necessary. I apologized for things I never did, I cried for hours at a time and even woke up crying at times. I checked my phone for messages, missed calls, a voicemail... I still do, but nothing ever comes.
So, this letter to you, is me letting go. Letting go of the hope. It's me letting go of that fantasy I held onto for so long. I'm letting you go Dad, because I love you. I loved you through the fights, the tears, the endless visits you cancelled on, the people you saw instead of me, and the vacations you went on without me. Isn't that what love is about? Letting something or someone you love and care about so much go?
I've tried; I've called and I've pushed my pride aside and spoke with you in person about everything and we hashed out the past. We've cried together, we've grown together, and I thought we'd persevere and finally have that relationship I had always dreamed about. The endless nights of asking and begging God "why? what did I do wrong? why am I so hard to love?". I began to question my belief in a higher power. I thought those days were finally over. Then I realized you were never going to come see my college soccer games, or just come see me, because if you didn't want to drive thirty minutes to my house, then you'd never drive four hours to see me. You gave me false hope and you lead me on to believe the lies you drilled in my head. All the excuses, all of the events you missed in my life. Did you know you'd be my first heart break? Have you ever sat down and thought about me, or how hard this would affect my life?
But you also didn't know your little girl needed you. You didn't know what happened on January 24, 2016. You didn't know what happened, because I hadn't told anyone. You couldn't have ever known, because everyone thought I was just an angsty teen who rebelled against everyone who tried to reach out. You didn't know that was the day a part of me died, and a part of me didn't belong to me anymore. You couldn't have known because you didn't want to know. Who would? You just assumed when I said I was fine that I told you the truth, and you assumed I wanted you to come see me because I needed money or I was using you for something. You didn't know that I resented you after that, for not taking me back to school instead of someone else, for not being there for me. You had no clue.
(And to the people reading this story now, who have gone through similar issues with their father or mother, you are not alone. You will get through this. I thought I would never forgive, but I did. I made something more for myself and my future, thanks to the people I surround myself with, especially my family. You will become a better person by going through and getting over this minor set back. It may seem big and extremely upsetting for some people right now but you will grow from this experience. Going through this for me made me more independent and less vulnerable to a lot of other situations.)
So, father, whether you read this one day or not. Just know, you may have hurt me and broke me but you have also made me into who I am today. I forgive you for everything, but I will never forget the scar you've left me with. I hope you're well and I always think about you.
