“I love you” as easily as other girls do.
But I stutter and bite my tongue instead.
I wish I could say “I’m your princess”.
But I know I’m not.
You see other fathers have promised that they’ve got their daughter’s back; you said to kick-****.
I wish I could say you’re my protector, but you’re more than that--- you’re my commander.
Other girls had their father’s hands all throughout their “firsts”
First bicycle ride—you sat me down the chair and pushed it down the hill.
(Thank God I didn’t die.)
I wish I could easily talk with you and laugh with you like other girls can with their fathers
But I know I can’t, because somewhere along the way---we’ve misunderstood.
You had no father, and I can’t seem to find mine.
I’m sorry for that one drunken night
When I asked you if you loved my mother--- if you loved me.
When I whispered a daughter’s greatest insult: I wish to never marry a man like you.
You see, I didn’t understand how a father’s love can be:
So true and so pure.
Ever gracious and ever merciful.
I’m sorry for comparing and blaming you for what you’re not.
Always looking for something else.
But daddy, you’ve taught me a lot.
How fear and love can truly mix.
How tough love actually exists.
You’ve always claimed to be imperfect, but honestly, you’re the best for me.