Writing a Letter to My Father

Never in my life have I've been forced to love someone, until now. My mother spoke to me of the horrors of the past and of how far we have made it. My entire life was that of survival and basically trying to make ends meet by staying alive, but I never really understood why I was the way I was. It was until I was about thirteen or fourteen that I really understood why my father was never there. My mom once told me that when I was two, I had a great love for my father and that it seemed as if he could do no wrong. I really don't remember ever feeling those feelings before. For as long as I could remember, I had no feelings for him. I was completely numb of any feelings toward him. She then told me why. My parents were high school sweethearts, but with a price. At eightteen, my mother gave birth to a child, being my older sister. As months turned to years, my mother lived with the constant fear of my father, like if he calm one day and next go into a rampage of anger. My father's main focus was my mother and she was the only one he would direct his anger. My mother was bent on leaving him, but he wouldn't have it. As part of his plan to keep her around, he hid her birth control pills as to impregnate her again, forcing her to stay. Before long, her did get pregnate, with me on her birthday. Bliss turned to sorrow as even though she was pregnate, she and I in her womb, encountered many blows. Even after I was born, we still endured many hits and the abuse never stopped. My mother eventually left him in the middle of the night. We just couldn't live the way we were anymore. As I got older, I was told many things about my father, but deep inside I knew these people were keeping the truth from me. My father still came around, but I never understood why he only stayed for about an hour and then had to leave. When I was eight, I had to go with my mom to the county courthouse for what she said was child support. I never heard that terminology before. We went and met my father there. What I didn't know was that my mother was going to fight him to get what was owed her, the years of child support he failed to give her. I never understood. Upon my thirteenth or fourteenth birthday, I finally understood what happened. Upon finding out, I became angry with him. No person desevers the kind of thing he put my mother and I through. I also came to a realization that I had no real love toward him. As far as I knew, I didn't even know him enough to be my father. The only people in my life who I considered to be father material were my grandfathers, but that didn't last long. When I was fifteen, both died a month apart, and I was left with no one. I was left in a vulnurable state of mind, and the depression began to set in deep. To this day, I am still fighting to overcome my depression, but without my father. He still comes around hoping to have a realationship with my mother, even though they are divorced, and still thinks he's apart of my life. As far as my father is concerned, he doesn't love me or my siblings like he says he does. He's still in love with my mom and that's the only reason why he comes around. It makes me angry and then I realize that that's okay because I don't love him either. My father betrayed me and my family, and I don't really care if I see him again or not. My father is just that, half of the DNA I have running through my vains. I wake in the middle of the night and cry myslef to sleep because I know I don't have someone to call Daddy. Sometimes I wish I did.