Hey Papa,
Whenever I looked at you, I always saw you through eyes of guilt. For whatever reason you've always been proud of me. I don't deserve that pride though. Because for the longest time I've lived my life ashamed of you. I think you like me because I'm 'the quiet one'. I think you like me because I'm seemingly peaceful. Sigh. I like that you think that of me but it also sparks a wildfire within my heart and mind.
Hey, hey Papa.
This isn't a ramble about how much I hate you. No, no no, I never did. I never will. I love you so much. Too much, that it hurts when I look at you. All I feel is guilt. You've always been so proud of me. My brother always told me about how you'd boast about me behind my back to anyone who would listen. I don't deserve any of it though. I wish you'd love me a little less, because you're too kind. You work too hard for me and I don't deserve any of it.
Hey P-Papa,
If you knew how I felt, you'd cry. I only ever saw you cry once, and I don't know if that really counts. We'd gotten a phone call that your step-mother had died. You made an excuse to go to the bathroom while rubbing at your eyes. I remember you muttering something about how "Things like this happen." I wanted to cry. But I'm cursed too, I can feel deeply but the tears never come when I need them to. I can't cry for movies, I can't shed a tear for books or touching music, or poetry. But I'm tearing up now. You're asleep in the next room. You're always so tired. I wish I could lift some of your burdens, but I can't. That makes me more guilty. I remember when I fractured my foot I cried, but that was only because I was laughing too. I heard that crying and laughing at the same time turns you into a monster. I guess I'm some form of monster. The guilt has eaten away at me for too long, I don't know how or who I'd be without it.
Papa. I'm sorry.
Hey, yes I am.
Your raven head of hair is fading fast into a pearly white, but you don't have any plans of retiring soon. You work so hard for me. Maybe I'm more selfish for thinking it's all just for me. I know it's not. But why do you make this so hard? I wish you would shout at me some times. Then it'd make bearing the guilt easier. I want to just say it somewhere and maybe relief some of the stress.
Dad for the longest time I've been ashamed of you. I can't even bring myself to write why but it's there. It's right there, when I hear your alarm at three am, when you get up for another day. When you almost fall asleep behind the wheel from how tired you are. When you come to all my important assemblies, regardless if you understand what is being said or regardless of how tired you are.
Thank you. I love you. And I'm sorry. I hope you never know about this. I just needed an outlet.
I hope I can give you a reason to be proud in this lifetime. You're my main source of motivation and inspiration. Thank you, God, for the best Dad, even if I am undeserving.
Hey papa. The lacking daughter that you're so proud of for no reason loves you more than you'll ever know.
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