To my father, I am nothing more than a mistake: his polar opposite that he doesn’t want to exist. I represent everything that disappoints. His eyes divert whenever I’m around. His attention is short whenever I try to speak. His voice tears down every essence of my being.
Sorry Dad that I couldn’t be the person you could have been proud of as the many peers you compare me with. Sorry that my lack of ability to speak fluent embarrasses you. Sorry that I have insecurities that have ruined our lack of a relationship. Sorry that I’m not like every other normal person.
I’m sorry for just being me.
1 comment
you live for you, not for your dad, so forget what he thinks