I wish you would’ve noticed.
The way I flinched at the sight of her
The way I laughed at things, even if they weren’t funny.
How I stopped calling you “daddy”
Stopped leaving my room.
Stopped giving you hugs.
I wish you would’ve noticed.
All the bruises.
All the fear.
All the crying.
I wore them like perfume.
And still, you never smelled it.
The scent was strong, filled with suffering and pain.
It followed me everywhere.
But you never recognized the scent of heartache.
Of betrayal.
And, eventually, I stopped crying altogether.
Because I knew tears wouldn’t make you notice anyway.
You were supposed to be my dad.
I trusted you.
I loved you.
And you never noticed.
And even when you did,
you left.
On your own terms.
And I was just strung along,
because I didn’t have a choice.
You moved on.
A new house.
A new girlfriend.
A new life.
But you never thought to apologize.
You never once asked what I wanted.
What I went through.
What went on behind closed doors.
I was expected to just…
forget.
But I never did.
And I don’t think I ever will.
Still,
you never noticed.
Or maybe you did.
Maybe you just didn’t care
I wanted an explanation.
I wanted to grieve.
Not for the people I left behind.
But for the person I once was.
I wanted to mourn for the version of me who trusted you.
The one who thought you would protect me.
Because you were my dad.
You were supposed to be my role model.
The one who was supposed to tell me that it’s okay.
To defend me.
To tell me I’m not dramatic.
That it’s okay to feel this way.
Now, you just yell at me.
Argue.
Get mad because I isolate myself.
“Why are you so lazy?”
Your words chipping away at me.
Just how hers did.
Have you ever thought
I’m not lazy?
That, instead, I’m trying to cope?
Trying to live?
Trying to put on a happy face?
It’s ironic.
The person I thought once loved me, now treats me as if I’m a burden.
I never did get that apology.
And maybe I never will.
TW: parental neglect, emotional abuse
Written from a daughter’s perspective left unseen.
