Letters to the Ones I've Loved

09

Far and few between are the memories I have of us. You say you love me and that you want to be a part of my life yet you don't bother to make the effort. Sunday afternoons are reserved for your sleep instead of your darling daughters. You have another family, nowadays they're all you need. The sickly wife, the frail daughter, and the healthy 3- year old little boy. What about us? When you do have us we do nothing together. There is no bond, no ties, no pure connection. All you seem to be anymore is just a title, even less, a sperm donator. Father. A dad. Aren't dads supposed to go to all your concerts and be there for you when you have a broken heart? Since you never made an effort before, we have made a life for ourselves. Not completely without you, but you're barely there. I miss the days where we'd listen to our favorite stories and talk about Dora. The days where our only cares were if my sister had taken my chalk. I look back at those times and all I have is this bittersweet feeling. Cause now you're a part of your son and other daughters life, making the same memories to replace ours. I am indifferent to this pain now. I have learned not to get my hopes up with you. It hurts that you don't try, but I'm not going to vie for your attention and time when I'm clearly not going to receive it.

Love,
Your daughter.