Dear Dad, Hi

Dear Dad,

It’s been a while. I’m sorry. Life has been really busy—well, no, I shouldn’t lie. I mean, yes, life has been busy. However, that isn’t the whole truth. 

The whole truth is that I’ve been… okay. My mind hasn’t brought me back to that day, at least not in the ways that leave me crying into my pillow, waiting to be overtaken by sleep. And I think a part of that is because I haven’t really let myself get to the point where that place is not too far out of reach. I’ve kind of kept it bay for the sake of my own protection.

Because I know what it looks like when I throw myself to the wolves. 

And it isn’t that I don’t want to think about you or reminisce on the good times; it’s just that I quite like being able to go on and move forward without the constant fear of when the next time I’m gonna fall apart is gonna be. And I guess that means putting you in the back of my mind until I’m ready for the eventual pain it’s gonna bring.

But I’m sorry. I’m sorry because I shouldn’t let my fear stop me from embracing your memory. But sometimes, I don’t want to deal with the hurt. And I’m not saying that the idea of you always leads me down a dark road because it doesn’t. Not anymore. Almost six years have passed, and I accepted long ago that you were gone. And that no prayer could ever bring you back. Certainly not love, either. Because, hell, if it did, I wouldn’t be writing this right now. 

But every time you come up, I have to face reality. I have to come to terms with what you did. What you said. What you didn’t do. What you’ll never say. And while I’m strong, I’m not made of steel. And neither is my heart. So, like a dam, both have the possibility of breaking. 

However, that doesn’t mean I cannot find the time to really think about and remember you on my own. 

So many moments to choose from; so much laughter and joy. You brought upon a sense of happiness and protection, especially in those hugs of yours, that I will always long for on the days where the universe enjoys taking it out of me. 

So, for that, I promise to continue wishing to see you in my dreams, even for a minute. So that I can hear your voice and feel your warmth and so that you can see the version of me that you missed out on. Because I think I’m beginning to figure out who I am, finally finding my power and not being afraid of it, you know. 

I love you, Dad. And I hope that you’re proud of me. The pieces are really starting to make their way into place. And that’s a good thing.

It’s just a shame you’re not here to witness it. 

Sincerely,

A daughter who will always miss her father