As part of my self healing, writing letters has been very helpful. Not only have I had a chance to get a lot of what I have to say to people out, I can say it in a form that I find to be very precise and articulate. Sometimes what I have to say just doesn’t come out well in spoken form.
The sole reason I moved to Texas was because of my father. I met him at a time in my life when things needed to change, when I needed to be different. I had just started school again, I was halfway between being happy and sinking into depression. Things just had fallen into place when I first spoke with him, and I never saw the type of life I would be leading because of my choices and his actions. Sometimes I almost feel cheated from what happened between me and him. But I’m starting to accept that I made these decisions as well. I am the one that chose to follow someone I barely knew, even if it was for reasons that I thought were good at the time.
Though, to be fair, they were reasons that no one can fault. I moved to know the other half of where I came from. I succeeded at that at least. I got to know him. I got to know that he wasn’t anyone that I wanted to be near or around, and it broke my heart, but at least I got to know that for myself.
Though it’s been something that’s been on my mind quite a bit lately. My best friend believes that my time in Texas has always been tainted because of the fact that I’ve been so bitter about meeting my father and the relationship failing so horribly. I never thought of it that way before he mentioned it, but the more I think about it, the more it rings so true. It started a trail I followed that led me to dark places, places I never thought I would reach the depths of in my life.
But, was it really fair to put all of my dislike and blame on him?
A lot of the reason why the relationship went the way it did was because of his wife. In combination it was lethal. His childish temperament and actions coupled with his wife’s special brand of selfishness, and my inability to stand up for myself all caused this. Would it have turned out different if I would have just said that I didn’t want to be treated the way I was? Would it have been different if I had just accepted that they were going to act the way they did because I was living in their world? Was I the one that was not accepting of the things they did? I know most people I talk to about it, and their actions over the course of the two years that I lived in Texas really proves that there just was just no thought on their part as to what they were doing to me. Selfish.
Dear Father,
I am sorry that things came to what they did. I was full of hate for what happened between us, but the more that I think about it, the more I become numb to it. As other people have said, you weren’t in my life for 22 years for a reason, and now I am starting to realize that all those years I spent crying and wishing for a daddy to come and save me were just wasted tears and wishes. It caused me to be bitter for a while, but I think I’m starting to just become indifferent. Even thinking about it now, I am sorry for you. I’m sorry you wasted all that time not knowing who I was, and then spent the two years that I lived down the street from you too proud to come and see the person you swore up and down you would never leave again. You don’t even know I’ve left Texas do you? You sent your wife over multiple times, hoping to bridge the gap between us, but little did you know that what I really needed was for you to come to the door. You’ve still missed out on every single one of my birthdays. You have still missed out on everything that has happened in my life, and I don’t think I will ever want you to be a part of anything significant in it anymore. I’ve stopped wishing for you. I’ve stopped hoping for you. I’m starting to move on, and forget the brief pain you caused me.
And this is my first step to really letting go of you.
Farewell.
The Rants of a Girl Nerd 