I grew up believing that I was born with something broken inside of me, something that my mother tried soo hard to fix that she forgot to fix herself.
I wonder if the doctors realised my shoulders was too weak to bare the weight of absence.
I used to tell myself that’s why he’s not around.
That one day he realised I wouldn’t be able to handle losing love so he left before becoming that loss.
I wonder if he would have still left if he knew that over twenty years down the line, the weight of his absence would still be so heavy. That the only way to lighten the hurt would be to distance myself from the person I was becoming without him.
I think my mum thought that if she told me she loves me enough times, she could try to replace the love I was missing, she tried. I mean she really did, but it just didn’t work. I know she thought she had enough love for the both of us but it never filled the absence. When a parent is absent by choice, there’s always going to be something missing. Questions unanswered.
I don’t even know what my father looks like, but my mum has told me several times I look just like him. That part of his face found a home on mine and sometimes she won’t look at me, and I wonder if it’s because every time she looks at me, I just remind her of the person that broke her heart?
And for a long while I’d search his name in the search bar on Google, because all I wanted to do was show him the scars on my knees from learning how to ride a bike all by myself.
One day I am going to let him know, the only thing he gave to me was the inability to trust.
One day I going to tell him, that all the lessons that he was meant to teach me about boys I had to learn myself.
I wonder if he would even look into my eyes because he’d only be staring into the eyes of his own and know that he is the reason why they are soo empty.
Even though it’s been years, I always seem make excuses for him, like maybe he never called because it slipped his mind. Plus who else would I have gotten my poor memory from because I knew it wasn’t from my mum, my mother remembered everything.
They say you can’t miss someone you never met and I’m living proof that’s a lie because Its been over twenty years and I still think I can feel my fathers hand holding mine.
I still have the cards I made you from nursery up until I was 8. I think I was 8 when I finally realised you probably would never show up to receive your Father’s Day card, Christmas card or anything I made for you.
I realised that some people are lucky to live with both parents and some children have two houses as their parents split but both parents was a big part of their child’s life.
Then there was me, the unlucky one. One Parent and One House.
I just wish he would of shown up to at least ONE of my birthdays. I grew up saying my fathers name as I blew out the candles that were never lit by him.
I grew up thinking that he wasn’t there to see my first breath because It would be hard for him to stick to the plan. The plan to save me from a loss that’s too great for me to hold. I told myself he couldn’t bear to watch his daughter grow up, knowing that some day his time would come he’d have to leave and it would ruin me.
I told myself he was a good man.
I told myself he didn’t want to be a part of my life if he couldn’t witness all of it.
I told myself that some men just don’t know how to be fathers,
I told myself that until I found out he had another daughter.
You know how the small the world is, my mum ran into someone in the grocery store who then told my mum my father just had his third child.
I didn’t know how to take it.
I began to envy them because they’ll never have to learn how to ride a bike by themselves, blow out candles and wish for him to return. They won’t have the long term issues like – Do you know how hard it is to let someone love you when the person who’s meant to wouldn’t?
It’s soo hard to love someone when the person you loved, didn’t want it.
I can’t wait for the day I meet this man.
One day I’ll introduce myself and tell him I have met him in every person I have loved and watched leave.
One day I’ll face him,
but for now I’ll just go on his Facebook that I finally found and look through pictures,
With him, his 3 kids and wife
and wonder how come he loved them but never loved me.