To my absentee father 🖤 [task 8]
I’ve had a lot of time to think about how poorly our last encounter went, and I’d be lying to myself if I said I wasn’t disappointed. You can deny it all you want, but it doesn’t change the fact that you are my dad… Biologically, anyway.
I get why you’re scared. Being a parent is a lot of responsibility. Mom would know. She’s been raising me on her own for the last fifteen years. I can’t say that I’ve made it easy for her… Then again, I hear teenage parenting is hard even when both parents present. All in all, I think mom did a pretty good job. I might give her attitude from time to time, but I know she’s doing the best she can. I admire her for that… For giving up her hopes and dreams to make sure I have everything I could ever want. She’s a good egg, pops. You really missed out.
The purpose of this letter isn’t to lecture you though. Quite the opposite, actually. It’s to try and connect with you… To learn about the man who is responsible for my existence. We don’t have to pretend to be this perfect father/daughter duo they make movies about. I’m not reaching out because I’m looking for money or trying to use you as a way to get back at mom for pissing me off. I just want to get to know you. I mean I am half you, ya know. After fifteen years you can’t really blame a kid for being curious.
Mom likes to tell me how similar we are… me and you. She thinks I look like you… That I have your eyes and your smile. I wouldn’t know. I guess I was too busy crying when we met that I didn’t notice. Thanks for that, by the way. I don’t usually break that easily, if at all.
I know things were said that can’t be taken back, but I’d like to start over with a clean slate. I forgive you for not being there for me when I was growing up. None of that matters now. I can’t exactly hold a grudge against you when I don’t even know your side of the story, which I'd love to hear by the way.
You don’t know this about me yet, but I’ve taken an interest in music and I write my own songs… Most of them are about you. My absentee father. Don’t worry… I left your name out.
I don’t think I have any real talent, but I started playing open mic night at Deja Vu. Drunk people will clap for anything and they leave a pretty decent tip. That reminds me… The owner thinks I’m 21. Don’t tell mom unless you want to be responsible for my murder.
Hear me out... If you give me one night to get to know you, to ask you five questions, I’ll never bother you again. That’s it. One night. Not even… A couple of hours, tops. If you give me that you’ll never have to hear from me again. Sounds like a pretty good trade off if you ask me.
The next open mic is this Friday at 10. I’ll be there whether you show up or not, but I really hope you do.
Please, Cash. Just think about it.