I know people like to complain about their parents.
I know people like to blame everything that goes wrong on their parents.
I don't want to blame.
I don't want to complain.
I learned so much about failure from you.
I learned so much about pain from you.
I learned so much about disappointment from you.
But I learned.
I know what those white drugs and addictions do to people.
I know what love doesn't look like.
I know why my mothers nose was swollen and bleeding.
I know you wont always show up when you say you will.
I know you aren't actually listening when I talk to you.
I know you STILL don't know when my birthday is.
I know how loud to turn up the music so the boys wont hear you fighting.
I know you were drunk when you called me last night.
I know because I have never heard you tell me you love me,
never heard you tell me you miss me,
as much as you did last night.
That really could have been the best present ever.
I cannot tell you how long I have been needing to hear it.
It really could have meant a lot.
Instead it made me feel sick.
It was Christmas.
Merry Christmas Dad.
Next time I wish you'd tell me sober.
Next time I wish you'd mean it.