I'm mad. I'm still so mad and after two years of telling you to cut me out of your life, I can still feel that anger burn inside of me. I'm so mad that I can't even write these words without walking away from the laptop because thinking about all of this makes me so upset. After two years of coming to terms with this, with you being who you are, I am still so upset.

I'm so angry with you. My mother tells me to let go of the anger, like she did years ago when you cheated and got divorced. But, I can't. That anger helps me to not forget why I stick to not talking with you, not acknowledging your presence in my siblings' lives. I see how other fathers interact with their kids, how they're there for them, and I can't help but be reminded about the disappointment of a father I have.

There's so much I want to say. But, I really want to start with the beginning, and how I remember the first time in my life I was scared of you, the first time I realized you weren't who I thought you were. I was seven, and I know, there may not be merit in a 7-year-old's memories.

But, I remember the night you told my mother, one of the dearest people in my life, that you cheated. Or, maybe, intended to cheat. You had an emotional attachment to a new lady, another married lady, and you were no longer interested in being with my mother. I remember being so concerned as to why she was locked in my grandmother's car and not at dinner. I was watching her from the window and you screamed at me to go back to the table.

That's the moment I remember, the moment I started to steer away from you. Maybe I forgot that along the way, but I remember every instance that made me remember. And, while I may not go in detail about it, I just want you to remember all the times you told me you couldn't wait to stop paying child support, for me to turn 18.

You couldn't wait to stop paying child support, the thing that would go into taking care of me and my needs, because being a father was such a burden to you.

Or, at least, being a father to your own kids is a burden. I watched you move from girlfriend to girlfriend, family to the next family, home to home, and how much you'd care for their children. How much you were there for them, driving them to their sporting events, watching their recitals. You may have gone to ours, but only when it suited your schedule. Our recitals weren't as important as that other family you were guest starring in. Driving us to our sports practices was too much of a burden, a source of complaint from your mouth on your weekends because "it took up your time".

You're right. It took up your time, the time specifically appointed by the courts. Every other weekend, certain holidays. But, guess what? Mom did twice the amount of driving us places, so did my grandparents. They drove us everywhere we needed to be without complaint during those 12 out of the 14 days they had us. Weird, huh, to think that they could do that without complaint but one thing out of your way was too much to handle.

It's okay, though. You know why? You have shown me what kind of parent I don't want to be. Mom showed me what a good parent should be, and you were the total opposite. So, I thank you for that. Thank you for showing me how I shouldn't be as a parent, how my actions and words can cause such turmoil within a child's head. Thank you for being the perfect example of what I never want to be viewed as by my children.

I wish you were there for us more. I wish you were the role model my brother deserves, but instead, my ex-stepfather is, and for that, I'll be forever grateful towards him. For showing my little brother what a man is supposed to look like. You and my sister are thick as thieves, and it's healthy, so, for now, I'm grateful for that. But, for me, I'm grateful you were a disappointment. I won't make the same mistakes like you did, like that whole side of your family does. It seems like good father figures come slim in that family, so I hope my brother can break that tradition. I hope so, too.

They say girls marry men like their fathers, and I look at my track record of boys I've dated, it's so true. So maybe that's why I ended up in relationships that weren't healthy in the least bit. The cheaters, the liars, the abusers. Now I know what type of guy I shouldn't look for, men like my father. Thank you for setting up standards for me, because I'll never marry a guy like you. I hope the father of my future kids (fur babies included) ends up not being like you.

I've never verbalized any of this, let alone collectively written down my feelings towards you before. It's hard because I find myself longing for the dad you could never be. I'm jealous of kids with active dads in their lives, dads that strive to be with their kids through everything. Even the divorced parents, the dads go out of their way to see their kid, beyond the time the court says is specifically there's. I think I may always be mad, but that anger has taught me so much.

This may be stirring the shit pot, but I don't care. Maybe now you may get why I'm so mad, maybe know you'll get where you screwed up. Because you did screw up, you screwed up hard as a dad and you can't go back and fix it. I won't ever let you. You'll never be back in my life. You won't be at my wedding, you won't see my children, you won't be there for any part of my life anymore. And I'm okay with that. So, thank you. Thank you for being a tremendous disappointment. It's done me a whole lot of good.