sadbhadandblonde

[sadbhadandblonde]

goodbye dad,

i wrote that letter you would never see, filled with heartache for the life we should’ve had and didn’t. i missed you and my heart yearned for your companionship especially hard yesterday. today i woke to the knowledge you were telling everyone how i was a village whore, how i was a deviant who didn’t deserve respect from any living soul. today i do not miss you. today i realize that things truly will never change and that there is no point in yearning for things that will never be. you died to me today. i have so much i could say about you, about today, but you are not worth the time and energy it would take to express it. 

fuck you and goodbye, 

your daughter of nineteen years

[sadbhadandblonde]

dear dad,

over the last two weeks i have been continuously thinking about you. today, especially, i miss you so much. there was a continuous dull ache in my lungs thinking about the voicemail you left on my phone telling me “you better answer me right now, or else.” they tell me how you tell everyone you won’t be speaking to me for a long time, and while i understand, i also don’t. i don’t understand how you could be the one to not speak to me after everything you had put me through. i loved you so much that i was willing to forgive you for everything. i was no longer upset over my childhood that you and my mother selfishly ripped from me in the never-ending war against each other. i had forgiven every venomous word that dripped from your tongue and sliced through me like a hot knife through butter. i told myself that it was okay, that parents go through a lot and it was normal to have bad days; no matter what you loved us so much, even if you couldn’t show it then. i took a lot of shit from you, always loving you regardless of the crimes you committed against my young heart. the truth is, though, that love is kind. love is not promising to stop drinking after i take my siblings away from the warzone of our home after one too many vodka redbulls, only to claim you promised nothing weeks later at family easter when you want a miller high life. love is not screaming that we are just like our mother (who you loathe with all of your soul, even if you claim to have forgiven her) and to go live with her because you’re sick of us acting like her. love is not rage and screaming and tears and anguish. love is gentle, kind, nurturing, and unconditional even in the worst of times. love is fighting without screaming and crying but drying the tears eventually. as i have grown into an adult, i understand now that what we had was not love. it was obligation to care via our shared bloodline. you took care of us, but you failed to show your daughters what type of father they should search for to give their future children. you failed to show your son how he should speak to his daughters and his wife. i was so angry when i realized how unwell you were mentally, even if you couldn’t see it or admit it. i grieved the father i never had, the childhood i lost, and the life i never lived. i was so angry, taking my anger out on myself in ways nobody could even see. i felt as though it was all on me, the first child. i was the guinea pig, and somehow i failed you still. the truth is, though, that it was never my fault. it was never anyone’s fault. i don’t know why you turned out how you did, and i don’t know why you are incapable of the change you continuously promise us. so i grieved and grieved and grieved, and then one day the grief was gone and it felt like the thunderstorm in my chest and tornado in my heart dissipated finally. the sun shined on the soaked grass, and though every structure of my heart was obliterated, there was a sense of peace finally. i forgave you again, but not in the sense that what you did was okay this time. the things you did to me were not okay, but i recognized you didn’t see that and that you probably never would. i simply couldn’t bring myself to house the anger and rage that i inherited from you any longer. the thing nobody tells you about grief is that it is almost more exhausting than anything else in the world. and the thing nobody tells you about grief and heartbreak is that it’s especially gut-wrenching when it’s your parents causing it. so, i forgave you because I needed to move on and let go of the storm clouds in my soul. i had no room for them any longer, and i was content with the knowledge that sometimes you have to love people from a distance. i doubt you will be at my college graduation, but i am content knowing my mother and all of my best friends will be there with more unconditional love and support than you have provided me in a lifetime. i doubt you will be in my wedding someday, and i already have plans for my best friend to walk me down the aisle in what would have been your place. i am sorry that it came to this, but i am not sorry for saying these things. you used to say i have been with you the longest, but the streak has ended after 19 years, and soon enough my brother will have been with you longer than i have. i forgive you, but please do try to find me again in this lifetime.

with love,

the daughter who was with you for 19 years.