#biologicaldad

I think the last time I saw you, you went to jail. So most of my life, I thought you were in jail or dead.

I still looked for you in the outfield...

I think God was watching for you in me. He could see I always remembered you. I waited sometimes. I never gave up on the thought of you. I keep you in my mind. Always kept you in the back of my mind til I seen you or heard about you, again. Your name always resounded in my head and one night it left my lips even tho I hadn't seen you or heard from you since I was little. It's funny that 30 years later, almost, that you still remember me. I'm honored. I just didn't expect you to call me your kid.

Im holding onto you because you are my truth and in this trying time, I need you to know what and who I look like. I just don't know where I come from, so I stick to what I know.

You have a place in my heart still. Idk what happened when I was a kid and it's probably best.. but just know, I am remembering you and keeping you in my thoughts. I thought about you for years til I finally let you go. But I always remembered you when I said your name in high school. I'm still here and part of me is glad you recognized me and the other part is mad. I hope you understand.. I have so much I could tell you but you are a stranger to me since you werent in my life anymore.

I hope you found god. He says I look so beautiful, wish you could see her, again. Maybe that's a prayer from you saying I'm beautiful when you see me. I like to think that.. cause if you remember me and my name, then you must've loved me somehow. God I hope you remember my name, first and middle.

that’s how many years it took you to try.

one.

that’s how many years you tried until you gave up. again.

you walked out of my life thirty one years ago. willingly.

you’d come back in just to see how much of my heart you could twist up into knots. how many pieces you could leave on the ground when you walked out again.

“put your mother on the phone, you aren’t my daughter anymore.”

words of hatred you spit at me when i was twelve.

you set the bar for what i thought i deserved.

you reminded me every year that i was not enough for you.

it took me a lot of years to understand this was not about me. this was your insecurities to work through.

but, that didn’t stop my heart from hurting. that didn’t stop me from questioning my self-worth. that didn’t stop the questions of why I wasn’t good enough for a phone call on Christmas, a card on my birthday. it didn’t stop me from putting this burden on my shoulders.

as a child, this is not a weight I should have had to carry.

as an adult, this is something I’ve had to learn to sift through.

sometimes sitting on the floor, dumping all the contents out and attempting to make sense of it all - again. one more time.

you asked for another chance. the hundredth one i have given.

i went against my better judgment.

i let you in again.

to my life and my children’s.

i gave you an opportunity to prove me wrong.

once again, venom was spewed in my direction.

and instantly i was a twelve year old girl, sitting on my bed crying - wondering how i allowed you to do this to me again.

it wasn’t my burden to carry then

and it’s not my burden to carry now.

i didn’t owe you anything.

it wasn’t my responsibility to make you feel secure.

it wasn’t you who needed to heal.

i was all sewn back up.

you took the stitches out - left me bleeding on my own.

i will be okay.

because i was raised by the two most loving people.

i will be okay.

because my dad loved me. on my darkest days. during my stormiest nights.

because he’s warm.

he’s encouraging.

he’s kind.

he’s gentle.

he’s understanding.

he’s caring.

he’s sincere.

he’s honest and trustworthy.

he doesn’t have to try. he just is.

this is my goodbye.

this is the end of this chapter.

the end of this book.

i will sign the last page as my promise to myself, i will close it, put it on a shelf as a lesson learned