Messy Pages

The Journal of a Messy Mind

Page Six

Page Six: September 22,2016

How can someone be absent in their child’s life. What kind of person makes the decision to not know their child? We are composed of traits and features of our parents and as we grow up we find ourselves. But before that we are paper mache copies. Cut outs. We have our mother’s nose or our father’s eyes and it boggles my mind every time that I look in the mirror, I see my parents starring back at me. My father decided to not have me as a part of his life. That was his decision. Not mine. If I had it my way, things would be a lot different. My father has to wake up every morning for the rest of his life and ask himself, “Why did I choose not to know my children?” I hope he’s happy with that decision. I hope he looks in the mirror everyday and sees my eyes. My round face. My teeth. I hope every time he picks up a camera that he holds it and wonders if I have been taking pictures. I hope 10 years down the line he’s crying because he doesn’t know his grandchildren. I hope he feels what I feel when I ask the question, “Why am I not good enough?” The truth us U am more then enough. People ask my father how we are. I wonder what he tells them. I wonder if he knows that I see his new life and I pity him. There is no trace of us. Of his before. I hope he’s happy. I hope that if he has another child that he loves it and is present. I hope that child goes to bed knowing that their father loves them. I hope they never question that love. I think about the future a lot. My kids are going to have to grow up not knowing my father. It breaks my heart. When I told my dad that ‘s not going to know his grandchildren, he laughed and said I can’t make him feel sad anymore. I don’t understand why I got dealt this hand in life but I have to live with it. I’ve handled everything that has been thrown at me but I don’t think I’ll ever be able to handle the fact that my father doesn’t want me. I have to live with seeing all of my siblings with their dads. I have to live with the emptiness I feel on father’s day. I have to live with all of it. I hope he’s happy and I hope every morning he sees me in his face in the mirror, in his camera lens, I hope he hears me in his laugh. I hope he hears my sadness and the emptiness that I feel when I ask, “Why doesn’t my dad want me.”

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