3 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

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