4 years ago500+ Views

Dear Dad,

I wish that I could send you this letter. I wish that I could do or be a million things better than what I do and am. I wish, even, that this were a real, tangible message. But it's not. It's a falsehood, an empty gesture, more for my own catharsis than anything meaningful. I guess it's par for the course with me. I haven't done anything truly meaningful, or created anything meaningful, in all my life. I want to amount to more than just a big fat pile of empty ambitions, but at this point I think it's too late and I don't know what's left of me to even try to work on. I wish that I had the balls to tell you about who I think I am or want to be. I wish that you would listen with open ears and heart. That's just not who we are. It's not even like I can look back onto some sepia-colored memory and try to determine where things changed. It's never been like that, and even hoping it might be makes me feel weak. I want to feel relevant, to feel like maybe I'm doing exactly what I should be, that maybe I'm on some kind of path that actually leads somewhere. I want and I want and I want a lot, all of these things, but I have no concept of how to get to those places. I know you'd say something along the lines of "get over it" or "buck up" or "everyone is sad sometimes." I wish I could make you understand that I'm sad all the time, that it's something outside of my control. I know when you look at me you see a sniveling shadow of the man you maybe hoped I'd be, and I'm sorry for that too. I don't know how to be better than I am. All I can really try to do is exist, just BE, in the state that I am. Even that is a daily uphill struggle. I have to fight invisible monsters just to get out of bed in the mornings, and that's on a good day. Even on the best days, I've got this aching, permanent sadness that doesn't leave me. It colors everything I do, every interaction I have. I'm made out of fragments of small sadnesses that don't have easy relief. I guess all I'm saying is that I want it to be enough for you that I'm trying, every day, to be even a little bit better. I just want that to matter. This is where I'm at now. I'm trying to be okay with it, and I need your help to do that.

With Love,

Your Son

very, very, very relatable. love the image of being made up of "fragments of small sadnesses"
big fan of that band! Really great music
@theidealist I haven't heard it but I'll have to give it a listen now
this reminds me of the song Emotionless by Good Charlotte