I’ve run from this truth for too long.
But today, I won’t run.

Yes — I saw you.
I walked past you.
I looked at you like a stranger, even though my blood was running through your veins.
Even though your eyes mirrored mine.
Even though my heart should have broken every time you looked at me and I didn’t look back.

And yes — I was a father to her.
I picked her up, smiled at her, laughed with her. I gave her the parts of me that I never gave you, and you watched.
You watched it all.

You watched me be everything you needed…
for someone else.

I don’t know how to say sorry in a way that can undo what I took from you — because it wasn’t just time.
It was identity.
It was feeling like you mattered.
It was hearing someone say “I’m proud of you” and knowing they meant it.
It was being chosen.

And I didn’t choose you.

Not out of your lack — but out of mine.

I was a coward.
I let my guilt, shame, and selfishness be bigger than my responsibility.
I convinced myself you didn’t need me. That you were “strong.” That you’d be fine.
But I saw the way you looked at me —
And deep down, I knew you were just trying to understand why love had conditions.

I should have held you.
I should have protected you.
I should have known that silence speaks just as loud as rejection —
And that no child should ever have to watch their father love someone else while they stand on the outside, aching.

You didn’t deserve that.

You were never invisible —
I just refused to see you.

If there’s any part of you that still carries that wound, please know: it was never your fault.
You weren’t unlovable.
You weren’t forgettable.
You were just caught in the shadow of someone who didn’t know how to be a man.

And while I can’t rewrite the past, I hope someday you find the kind of love I never gave —
The kind that sees you.
The kind that stays.

You always deserved more.