Yesterday was Daddy's birthday. I didn't have the motivation to do much of anything, but I went out and had dinner in his honour. Today I will follow up with a tradition I have tried to uphold; it's been an on and off thing.
I try to write Daddy letters as often as I can, or as often as I think about it. Today I will post one on my blog-and challenge you to write a letter of your own. It can be to anyone-an ex, a loved one, a friend, a former friend, anyone-you can send it or not, as you so choose. Or as the person it is meant for so dictates by their status of livelihood.
Here is mine.
Dear Daddy,
Happy birthday! I wish that I could be with you right now, but it is not to be just yet, I suppose; I will see you again someday, I promise. A lot of crap has happened, but I'm sure you've been watching. Because it's been hard to miss.
I guess then you'll have come to understand my mental state right now. To tell you the truth, Daddy, I am on the fringe of despair. I'm just on the OK side of the line. I'm standing with one foot on the line and one just inside that 'all right' range.
Anything, any slightest thing, can set me off. It wouldn't take much to send me spiralling back into depression and despair. I've gotten used to that. This is the best I've been in over a month, but I'm here right now, so I'm okay.
For two weeks I sat in my crappy apartment. I spent half of my time daydreaming, or sleeping, to try and escape it. I don't want to go back there, Daddy. The memories haunt me. Only by being away from that place can I even be okay. So long as I am there, I am in so much pain.
I kept imagining the phone ringing at three in the morning, like it had so many times back then, when I was happy. When I was OK. Before all this. I'd imagine that he was calling me again, to say he was sorry. To try to make up for all of it; to say that he still wanted me. But clearly, it's too late. The monster destroyed it all.
Here I am safe, I am free from the memories. Some of them are there, but they aren't as concrete, as real or as numerous. I remember all the times I was on the phone here-but here I can at least live with it. Here the one most haunting memory isn't.
I cannot be haunted by the end of everything here. The end of what might even be my life, because it eats me up from the inside out. It isn't here, it wasn't here, it has not touched this place. This place is pure and unharmed. For that I am grateful. It is my safehaven in a world where everything has crashed down around me.
Who knew it would be so easy to lose myself? Who knew it would be so easy to lose everything and everyone I cared for?
I've lost it, Daddy. All of it. There is no longer any light in the dark. But as long as I'm here, I can stand that. Because the darkness is just empty darkness. Not a darkness filled with cold, despairing memories.
I miss you.
~Dianna
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