Dear Dad,
Papa misses you. He wishes you would come home. I don't understand it, Dad, why did you leave him? Us? I know you and Papa were having troubles but I never believe you would leave us. It doesn't make sense to me. None of it does. You were supposed to always support Papa...always be there for me. I watched some of your and Papa's old videos. The way you looked at him, laughed with him. It made me so happy to see all of it. It made me almost forget the screaming. The shouting, the slamming of doors and strings of curse words.
Once, you and Papa got into a fight at 12 in the morning and I had gone to sleep already. You didn't know I heard it all. You were fighting about drugs. Apparently, you were high, I was younger so I didn't know what it meant. Papa had said that if you weren't going to take being a dad seriously, you should just leave. You told him that he was being a dickhead and started screaming about never loving him anyways. I don't think you guys wanted me to hear that.
Still, I never could have believed you would pack up all your things and just leave. The funny thing was, you and Papa had been getting along for about a week. No fights, no broken plates. Smiles, cheek kisses. You hugged me goodnight and said you loved me. I smiled. Then, I woke up you had vanished.
I was shocked, Papa wasn't. His eyes were glassy with tears, but his head was held high. He put my head against his chest and said, "We'll get along on our own, honey, right?" I had nodded, but I was biting my cheek to keep from sobbing.
You sent us a check from a rehab center two days ago. When I showed it to Papa, his eyes widened. His fingers trembled, he was clutching the letter so hard that the sides began to crinkle.
I asked him if he was okay. He nodded, over and over. He said, "Your dad loves you, so much that he's getting help."
I don't know where you are exactly, or what you're doing. But I hope the rehab nurses let you read this, Dad because I miss you. And I hope you get better because both me and Papa want to be a family again.
I love you, Dad, I always will. I'm 9 now and I can't wait to show you how much I've learned in school when you come back.
Love,
Chloe
Dear Dan,
When you came home, it was the best day of my life. To have you in my arms, to thread my fingers through your hair again. It was bliss. I thought it might have changed. I thought Chloe could have her dad back.
I remember how happy I was when you said you wanted to adopt Winnie. We knew it would be a challenge, adopting a 4-year-old without getting to know him as a baby, but we did it together. You had never smiled brighter when we took our first family photo with Winnie. I still have that photo. I used to cry whenever I saw your smile. Now I grew numb to it. But it still makes me happy to know that our family, once, made you smile like that.
Do you know how much it hurt me, Daniel Howell? When you relapsed, I thought it was going to be okay again. I stayed strong for you...for Winnie and Chloe. Through your nasty words, I stayed strong because I so badly wanted us to be a true family again. For you to smile the way you did when we got married, when we had Chloe, when we had Winnie. But then you hit me.
Even the slap didn't hurt as much as the realization. The realization that you weren't the same Dan Howell that I had loved for so long. That I had stayed loyal to for so long, too long. The realization that you were a danger to not only me but our children.
I don't know where you are. The last letter we got from you was from a rehab center in Manchester. I guess you're back in our first town together, huh?
Dan, I loved you. I think I still do. But until you can fix yourself, for our kid's sake, I'm not going to see you. I'm sorry.
Best,
Phil Howell-Lester
Dear Dad,
Winnie is growing rather fast. I wish you were there to see him. You only knew him until he was 6 before Pa moved us all away. I think of you loads, wondering if you're alright, what you're doing. If one day we can be a family again.
The dream is fading. Winnie doesn't remember much of you, Papa's lost the hopeful glint in his eyes when he speaks of you. Even I'm struggling to scrape memories of you in my mind. Memories are only finite, I wish we had time to make more before you slipped back into your addiction.
Papa said that you've been living in America, he called you a week or so ago. I guess, what I'm trying to say is, Papa is upset. He misses you, he feels guilty for your problems. Maybe if you come home, just for a week or so, it would help. Maybe you and Winnie could make some memories...you are his father. I want to see you too, to make sure you're the person I remember.
Your daughter,
Chloe.
Dan,
I'm sorry the way things ended with your visit. I really feel awful. You were only trying to make amends. I just...usually I'm able to see the sarcastic, adorable boy I lived with all those years ago behind your bloodshot eyes. This time, I couldn't.
I'm drowning Dan, it's so hard to be a single parent with two kids. One not knowing his father, the other struggling to hang onto memories. I am too, in a lot of ways. I fall asleep thinking of our cat whiskers and baking videos and wake up remembering that they are all distant shadows to a nightmare I'm living.
I yelled at you, which is what I'm most sorry for. You didn't deserve such harsh words. I was scared, though, scared that you would hurt Winnie. You only wanted to get to know him, I've realized that now. I had one chance...once chance to get you back. To get our family back. And my past fears of your one mistake, it screwed it all up. And this time, you did nothing.
Now, I'm scared of what you will become. I'm afraid I've damaged you so bad that all you'll do is resort back to your weed and your alcohol. And I've cut a wound too deep that even time can't heal it.
I just...I'm so confused. Confused and scared. Please forgive me, Danny (remember how much you would giggle when I called you that. You'd call me a spork then place your warm lips against mine and it was like heaven. Heaven because we were all so happy), we both need forgiveness.
Yours,
Phil Lester.
Dear Phil,
I'm coming back. And I'm going to change. Because you were right, you were right since the beginning. We need to be a family. We need to give Winnie and Chloe a good childhood.
But mostly, we need each other. For as long as I can remember, it was Dan and Phil. The power duo, the inseparable British boys. And no matter how much alcohol I poured into my system, I could never flush out those feelings I had. I think that's love.
Because I love you Phil. It might be hard to rebound so quickly, but I'm coming home and we're going to be a family. This time...this time I promise, Phil Lester, I swear to god that I'm going to make you smile brighter than the sun and all the stars in the galaxy. Because all the suffering through rehab will be worth it to see you (and the kids, of course) smile.
I'm coming home Phil, hang in there.
Love,
Dan Howell-Lester.
"Shh!" Chloe hissed at her little brother. "Dad got home at 3am, don't wake him up!" They tiptoed to their parent's bedroom. Phil's arm was thrown over Dan's body. Their bodies pressed together, like puzzle pieces...finally clicked together again.
Chloe pressed the yellow post-it note on their door before she and Winnie ran downstairs to the kitchen.
Dear Dad,
Welcome home
Love, your children,
Chloe Howell-Lester and Winnie Howell-Lester.
