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Dad, The last time I wrote you a letter I was in primary and it was around the time of Father’s Day, I wrote about how you’re my hero and how everyday of my life shined brighter because of you. God, I knew nothing about you or what you did or how you would act when I was older. This was way before I watched you take a line at the “Happiest Place on Earth”. Or meet all the women you cheated on my mom with, but you told me they were co-workers.

I can’t blame you for hiding it from me until I was in high school, I remember growing up with money and having the world on a sliver platter, I was sliver spoon fed without a care in the world. The first time I got a glimpse of it was the first and only time I got bullied in school because the pigment of my skin was off from you and moms, and there was a rumor that went around that you paid off his parents to switch schools or something. There were days where I couldn’t follow you around, my tiny feet behind yours, because you had to go to Melbourne and take care of “business”.

I’ve always thought the family business was something to do with construction, I mean half of it was but, it was a small way to keep me away from it. I just knew mum was dressed to the nine’s when we went to markets, she’d cry with her diamonds at night because they couldn’t keep her warm. She wanted nothing to do with me once I hit a teenager because in your words “I had them wrapped around my fingers.” Remember when you introduced me to Mark’s family, but you were still married to mom and you wanted a life with another woman.

I was fourteen when I found out you were one of the top drug dealers in Australia, I remember this kid asked me “I heard your family has the hook-up maybe we could hang out later,” I remember having to come to you and ask what that meant. You broke down to me that everything I had was because of it. You told me I would do great because I was so pretty and I could easily sell. So I took it with a grain of salt, I was the daddy’s girl who didn’t have any parents but a guy that depended on the money for his usage as well for the well-being for me.

At sixteen I watched someone die, I watched the blood cover his white button down and I thought about this family at home. He didn’t pay up and I sat in the back of the car while you and of your guys took him out. He tried to explain that he couldn’t pay because of his family needed the money, there wasn’t any negotiations just a bullet to the heart, clean. I remember seeing it on the news, I watched his wife cry, the case went cold but I lived with the killer the entire time.

At seventeen, I sold my first 20k, you told me you were proud. But you never told me you were proud when I was on honor roll from second grade up, you weren’t proud when I learned the piano or when I had my first ballet show. But you were proud when I got a group of high school kids addicted to drugs that night, you were proud when I took out half of my senior class because they would rather do blow with their other rich friends then graduate. It fucked me up but that’s when I got serious because I wanted to strive so much because I wanted you to tell me you were proud of me.

At eighteen, I met Tyler, the first person I felt serious about. I met him through what you called a business, I guess you could say we met through work. He was the first normal guy who didn’t have this hell taking over him, it was weird that’s probably why I was so into him. I never told you about how we met, you never really cared for him unless he was on the guys that helped you out. You and mom never showed me real love, I thought love was buying someone a car when the other fucked up, not laying in bed with someone watching a movie, not kissing someone goodbye, not having someone hold you at night because they want to.

At nineteen I found out about Lottie, you were pissed. I couldn’t do much for the business because I was focused on the human who was depended on my well being. At nineteen I had Lottie, I remember you told me you couldn’t be at the hospital, I had no family there. I remember holding her and wishing so badly that I had you or my mom but neither of you wanted to be there.

You came around when I was twenty, you helped me take care of my daughter when I couldn’t because I was down in the dumps and I thank you for that. I remember when I had to go you with one of your hush because you thought he’d treat me right, wine and dine me. The date, well I was so focused on getting home I didn’t notice how drunk I was until I ended up naked in his bed with tears in my eyes the next morning. You told it was consent and I told you not to come around here anymore. I haven’t ever spoken of that night, I’m too scared that someone would think badly of me and that’s probably a dumb way to think of it but if my own dad told me it was nothing then it must me nothing. I mean I came up with my first miscarriage and I was terrified of having another baby but it was scary losing one and having no one there to help me.

At twenty-one, I tried to talk to you again because i knew Lottie needed more in her life than just Tyler’s side of the family. You asked if I would sell drugs again or if I talked to mom, I said no to either. You sighed on the phone and told me “I was once proud of you”. It crushed me like a ton of bricks. Once proud of you, how do you tell your only kid that. I remember I questioned why I was even adopted by you and mum because once I became an adult, you both dropped me.

At twenty-two, I told you had Parkinson’s. You told me it’s not a big deal.

At twenty-three I’m writing this, I’m writing about how much of a letdown I feel some days because my dad doesn’t give a fuck about me. I tried to get over the traits that Tyler had, but you’re not even half the man he is. I’m writing this telling you I’m done, I’m having another kid and if it’s a little boy I hope he never gets to meet you, I hope he never gets to see how much of a coward his grandfather is.