We’ve connected.
It was hard, emotional, awkward, weird.
But it’s a start.
You attacked.
You were defensive.
But we connected.
It’s a start.
A stranger, of 33 years.
A stranger, who’s part of my DNA.
A stranger.
But it’s a start.

I have your eyes.
It haunts me.
My son has my eyes.
I feel proud, connected.
I look in the mirror and see you.
You don’t deserve that.

I hope you don’t realise how much you hurt me.
I hope it wasn’t intentional.
I can’t believe you would.
I don’t want to think you could.
You were here.
But you didn’t.
Why?
What is wrong with me?
Was it too much drama?
Was it too much pain?
Did you think I wouldn’t care?
I’m not sure what I did to deserve this?
I don’t know why it hurts so much.
I don’t know why I care.
But I do.

I think you’d really like me.

If I see you, if I hear from you, if someone says your name; I forgive you. It’s the downside of being a daughter. No matter what, I’ll always look up to my dad and eagerly await for him to love me back, it’s the downside of being a daughter. Just like the little girl looking lovingly into her dads eyes, it doesn’t go away with age, ill continue to wait... it’s the downside of being a daughter. You hurt me, you forget about me, you abandon me; and I’ll always forgive. I’ll choose love over hate, It’s the downside of being a daughter. I can never hate, no matter home much you hurt me; it’s the downside of being a daughter. I live without a dad, my kids live without a grandad, I can’t talk openly about how great you were, cause all they know is that you left... and never returned. It doesn’t make sense to them,- they don’t understand, the downside of being a daughter. Age doesn’t heal; you’re never too old to have a dad, to want a dad, to need a dad. It’s the downside of being a daughter.