My First Goodbye Letter to My Distant Father

My Father,

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To simply begin with I’d like to say that I love you. I love you very much, but at a distance. Being around you honestly makes my skin crawl most of the time. I do not have an undying need to see you, talk to you, or really acknowledge your presences. I am grateful for all the times that you were there for me and then things that you did for me. Putting a roof over my head, giving me a warm bed to sleep in, and purchasing my truck for me (out of guilt nonetheless).

But some of the things that you did for me, and to me, drove me away. You smothered me as a teenager. After the divorce, you were lonely and scared, which is completely normal. You, much like Ma, didn’t have the physical or emotional means to take care of yourself, much less me.  As a result of your unhappiness, I was ignored by you. The fatherly role ceased to exist. You closed in on yourself and shut everyone and every daily task out. You got lost in the bottle and in your thoughts. Thus, I fend for myself.  I became an adult before I had to. I was independent and I was going to do whatever it took to be strong.

Once I gained my new-found independence and I learned that I was perfectly ok standing on my own two feet, I never, ever wanted help again. You were not my father. You were my housemate. I cooked, cleaned, and went about my business as usual.

Image from http://www.weheartit.com

My first rejection to you is when you wanted me to sleep in your bed because of the pending thunderstorms, which you knew I was absolutely terrified of. As a kid, I thought this was perfect sound. As an adult, no 12-year-old kid should be sleeping in their parents bed. I remember you wanting to “hug” me when we slept. Sorry, but you were wrong. That’s called spooning as adults, and I may I remind you that it’s not ok to say hi in the ways that you did. After I felt that something was wrong, I separated myself from the situation and suppressed as much of the memory as possible. It really honestly wasn’t until this past year that I realized I was 1 of 4. I had been violated in ways that I shouldn’t have been. At least it now explains a lot about how I feel and why I consistently fail at relationships.

The second reason I rejected you is because you never allowed me to breathe. Once I gained my independence, you decided it was time to try to be my parent again. Wrong. You stopped being my parent and I didn’t need you to start again. You were afraid of losing me, or me making a mistake. Well, one, you had already lost me. And, two, mistakes build character and they are good for your soul. Finally, if you thought that keeping me at home versus letting me go spend time with friends (which I actually had free time) was going to make me love you more, you are dead ass wrong. It made me hate you and I still do.

Finally, I don’t ever want you to pretend to be my father ever again. You are an acquaintance that I am required to go see once a year to make other people happy. You didn’t support me when I really needed you to, so don’t ever think for a second that I will lean on you again. You missed my high school and my college graduation and then gave me complete and utter bullshit excuses. I don’t need your drama or your bullshit. You lack of thought about “how your kids would feel” when you decided to propose, another mistake. I may not be around but you don’t ever expect me to be happy for you when you have made a rash, irresponsible decision. Especially one made when your father is on his death-bed. Furthermore, even though you don’t see it, your wife, GoldDigger, is just that, a gold digger. She’ll drain everything that you have and leave you in the end. Personally, you’re a sorry sack of blind shit if you don’t see that because everyone else does.

Image from http://www.weheartit.com

So before I sign off and bid my final farewell to you, you need to know two things. One, I love you. I do. But I can’t stand to be around you. Two, don’t ever try to be my parent again. It’s a failure waiting to happen. Three, if Ma knew about this, you’d be a dead man walking because I’ve got friends in low places, where the whiskey drowns and the beer chases my blues away, and I’ll be ok.

Sincerely,

The daughter that you lost and you never even knew it.

3 thoughts on “My First Goodbye Letter to My Distant Father

  1. I had this crush that I met when I was 14, and we almost dated, but I didn’t because of peer pressure. We never associated again in high school, but I tried to hook up after high school. She eventually stopped returning my calls. I talked to her on facebook a few years later when I created one, but she eventually deleted me. I fantasized about being with her for fifteen years. Even though I didn’t actively pursue her, I held out some small hope that she would come around. In the back of my mind, I sometimes wondered what the odds were of getting together. I don’t know a woman in the world that looks quite like her- she’s a little heavy set, but everything about her turned me on. But tonight, I wrote a good bye letter (you know the ones, you’re not supposed to mail them.) I actually teared up as I wrote it. I just burned it in the back yard.

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  2. Very insightful of you to understand that many of your issues come from him. I knew my father affected me, but not the way I understand it now. The way we learn to love comes directly from them and it took me a long time rewire myself in order to be able to have healthy relationships. Your father was distant, but the sexual abuse is the soul killer.
    Cheers to letting go. It’s usually the first step to healing.

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