A letter I can't send...
Dear....
I don't know what to call you. Dad is so... personal for someone that barely knew you and yet, Calling you by your name feels unnatural too.
I've been thinking about you a lot recently. I know that you are not alive anymore to actually find you and say this to you so this letter is my way of talking to you.
I have always believed that I must be a bad person because of you. I have never heard a good word about you, not even from George and Ian. They just told me that the best thing that you ever did was leave me alone.
And they were your friends.
I spent so long wondering what I had done to make you leave me. Why didn't you even tell mum and me that you were going to Germany? I thought that it was my fault.
I was bullied at school and that and you leaving had a really negative effect on me. And then there's the whole prison thing and a half -brothet that I might have and I just felt that I was a "bad' person because of you.
I'm 40 and I've never have a real conversation with my father. I remember your flat with your green front door and I remember the glass horse and carriage on your kitchen windowsill.
I also remember waiting outside the bookies for you (because horses were most important to you than your daughter) and yet, I also remember you teaching me to dance.
My one memory of you that's good.
But you know what? I know that you have no influence on my life.
I am not a bad person. I am lucky because I got to know grandma, who adored me, and my mum was my best friend.
It was those two amazing women that made me the strong, independent woman that I am today.
I am glad that I didn't have you in my life.
I am not going to worry that because I have your DNA, I must be "bad" because I know that isn't true.
I had a father figure in my life and he was always there for me and I wish I told him that, but that's on me.
I am not going to worry about your influence on me or how you didn't love me so no one else could.
People did (and do) love me and I love myself.
I would rather have the upbringing I had than have one with violence and fear. I was lucky not to have you in my life.
I just wanted to tell you this.
From the daughter you never knew.
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