It’s the 21st of June, 2015, almost 5 years since you left me here, all by myself. It’s Fathers Day today.
May I take the pleasure of saying, you left me alone? The best I could do is leave a status for you on Facebook. Because, unlike most other children, you aren’t around for me to say it. (I’d still have put it up on Facebook and showed it to you)
You had a choice. A choice to let me have a saner life. You didn’t take it. Why? Wait, let me guess, you thought I was ‘ready for it’? Or maybe, you thought I was so grown up that I didn’t need you anymore? Or, because mummy and Ralph were around for me? Or, because you thought Roman would be half the man you were? Or, did you just give up on me?
You ruined me. You left me broken. Broken in a way that I can’t even get myself to say the word ‘mend’.
You left me without any answers.
I don’t even know if it’s worth writing to you. Because, hell yeah, you are reading this. You know everything that’s been running through since that God-forsaken day. And, you won’t do a thing about it. Because you’re a nobody now. I don’t feel you any more daddy. I don’t. Is it good?
My big man was frail. He was afraid. He wasn’t my hero. He wanted me to be his.
He was afraid of the world. Afraid of being hurt more and more each day. He did not have it in him to fight any longer. He lived in silence. He lived in despair. He lived in betrayal.