I’ve been sat here for an hour trying to think of someone else that I have missed, even remotely, so that I would not have to write another letter about you. I already tried writing about you on Day 11 and Day 12. That didn’t go so well, and these are the only two days so far where I have failed to complete the daily challenge. I don’t count that as having failed the challenge totally, as this experimental journey is not so much about writing 30 bloody letters, but instead about – well, it is about writing 30 letters, but not about the actual writing, more about the letters. Look, it’s late, and I’m not making much sense. What the fuck ever.
Anyway, back to what I was saying. I was trying to think of someone who I have missed more than you. And I just can’t. I have missed you since I was 13 years old. I have missed you for 20 fucking long years of feeling abandoned. The damage you’ve done… Paul, Dad, all I ever wanted was for you to be there for me. To love me. To encourage and guide me. I didn’t want your money, I only wanted your time. ANd now it’s too late, because you’re kinda dead and I kinda said/did a lot of things around the time of your funeral which you probably wouldn’t like. You might understand them, but you’d not like them. I was disrespectful to someone you loved. I was hurting. And I maybe was jealous that you loved her and you didn’t love me. Or maybe you did. In your own way. Either way, it doesn’t really matter now. The last time I saw you alive was in 2003. I do regret not keeping in touch. That is probably the first time I have admitted that. I always thought about you, and even now you’re no longer alive, I think about you still.
I miss you. I love you. No matter what you did, or didn’t do. No matter how our relationship panned out. I realise that I love you unconditionally. As only a son could love his father, or a father could love his son.
Who am I crying for? Am I crying for you? Or am I crying for me?
I promise that I will make you proud.
I miss you.