Can I still call you Dad? It has been more than 10 years since I last saw you. Unless you can class the time you walked past me in the shopping centre as seeing you. I just thought I’d write you a letter and let you know what’s happened to your “family” since the night you walked out.
Your wife? Well, she’s a mess. Pretty much a shell of the person she used to be. I think she is just waiting to die. That’s what it feels like to me. Do you know what it’s like to watch someone you care about fall into a pit of depression and despair? There is nothing I can do or say to help her.
Your son. Do you remember him? I think he has started to come to terms with you leaving. He was a mess when you left. Well, he was only 12. I hate to say it, but he really needed you. The most defining point in a young boy’s life, and you missed it all. Do you remember he tried to keep in contact with you? I mean you did try for a while didn’t you? Do you remember what you said the last time you spoke to him? That you weren’t a father? Strange saying that to your son. But hey ho. I’m not a parent, I clearly don’t understand the definition of a father.
And then there’s me. I thought I was fine. You left, so I cut you out of my life right then and there. Simple. You tried to keep in contact – well you sent a few texts – but I wanted nothing to do with you. I realised about a year later that I wasn’t fine. Apparently keeping things bottled up isn’t a good idea. I broke down at work. I couldn’t stop crying. I wasn’t making sense. There was so much I wanted to say but I couldn’t find the words. A stream of madness dribbled from my mouth. Work sent me home.
I didn’t tell Mum why I was home so early, and still haven’t. I haven’t told anyone. I didn’t want anyone to think I was weak, that I missed you. I didn’t want you to win. I didn’t want you to think I needed you. That there was some gap in my life now you had gone. I didn’t want you to think you had an impact on me. But of course you did. You were my dad.
There is so much damage you have caused that I will never be able to forgive you. Not only the affair that lasted years and years behind Mum’s back, but the fact that you lied about it constantly. Even after you left, you still lied. To this day, you have never told us the truth. Do we not deserve that? No. Because it’s easy for you, isn’t it? You have your new family. Our new little half-sister, who is about 10. Couldn’t even tell us that could you? Will she ever know the truth?
I was invited to a wedding shortly after you left. I had no idea the sort of impact that day would have on me. It was a family wedding. But seeing everyone happy and together, the bride with her father, I had to leave. I needed to get out of there. I caused a rift in the family for the way I behaved. I left just after the ceremony and sat at a bus stop in the middle of nowhere and cried my eyes out. I wanted help for how I was feeling but had no one to turn to. You did that. You hurt me.
I’ve seen you on Facebook. Laughing and joking in videos with her. I don’t suppose you tell people about us do you? Do you know how that feels? You have taken my childhood memories away. You took my family away. Were we ever happy as kids? All I see is the misery and destruction you left behind.
You will have no part in my future. You will not walk me down the aisle. You will never meet your future grandchildren. You are nothing to me. You are less than nothing.
Your firstborn
