Hi. Good morning or maybe good night?
I’m not even sure if this I should write.
Dad, Pops or Father-how should I address? You’re the man who beat my Mother and left her a mess.
I am unsure of what I feel about you, so I’ll convey it in rhyme.  A lot of emotions that I could break through but it would take too much time.
I spent a lifetime blaming you, wondering how to begin. To write to a man I’ve never met, who doesn’t know where I’ve been.
For so long how I hated you. Always wishing on stars. To have a father I knew, who could hold me in arms.  It took my own rock bottom and addictions to see. Your actions had nothing to do with me.

So many questions would rattle my brain. I know nothing about you, yet we look just the same. Always attracted  broken men who I thought I could fix. How could I hate a man so much who doesn’t exist?

For the countless times I fell on my knees,
and prayed for a father who wouldn’t leave.
And for all the times you weren’t there. It  opened my eyes and made me aware.

That while I longed for the Dad you could never be, you were apart of our journey and necessary.
We’re now strong, fierce women whom rose above. I know now you weren’t capable of healthy love.
All the times I have fallen and couldn’t stand, I learned that love isn’t always in the form of a man.

And when I cried over heart break, never awake. All of the pain made me who I am today. The woman I wouldn’t be if Mom  hadn’t walked away.
So thank you for  being absent then when I needed you most.  You’ll always be in the form of a ghost. Staring back at me in the mirror, seemingly close.
Without you I grew up to be independent,
To never need a man to have as my pendant. I hated you once, for a long time I did. Feeling like half of me was missing as a kid.
Wherever you are, I trust you found peace. In forgiving you I found my release.
Your abandonment it wounded. For so long I carried anger. Carrying the weight of a total stranger.   Never wanting to be alone, but not getting close to another. Holding hate in my heart for what you did to my Mother.

In our youth we met a men whom would step in and raise us. For a time he gave love, assisted and praised us. Years passed and he came angry-not someone I knew. And quickly turned into another version of you.

In you not wanting me I learned to love myself more. I now see so many things  I couldn’t have before. I hold a grateful heart because I know in my head. If it wasn’t for her bravery we’d probably be dead.

Biological Father-how could I ever forget. The most fascinating man that I never met.