My Fathers,

I doubt you two know much about each other. I can hardly remember the moments when you exchanged chilled pleasantries. What I do remember, and sadly what I cling to, are the hard times. The times I collapsed in the shower, sobbing tears when I told you (my biological father) I couldn’t see you anymore because it hurt too much, and the slipping hope that this new father would be able to fill the void you had scooped out of my chest.

And now there is this new man, this man that has adopted me, and I thought everything would be different and bright and golden. And it was. For a time. And then I left for college and mother was destroyed. Depression, lethargy, and an absolute aching pain in doing anything. She was sad, and you just pestered her. And pressed her to get up, get out, to move on. That’s what you did, right? Another woman for you…another man… You fulfilled the desires of the flesh with any meat you could grasp. I don’t know who you are. You can’t tell me the truth, or simply, will not. I hate you for that. I hate not understanding the motives behind an act so foul as yours.

But I still love you. You pulled me away from my first father, the sperm donor, the man who ripped me in half and threw me away. You pulled me up and helped me move on and forget the tragic man who years later was arrested. I thank you for saving me from experiencing such a future. But now I’m here, experiencing this. I don’t know what is worse. I can’t trust you. You’re at arms length and yet I love you. I think? Who am I to say what love feels like. I’m constantly at war with myself. Wanting a lover to hold me at night, a man to be there for me, and cherish me. And then I look back at you, and I run away terrified from any prospective men. Am I doomed to be like this? I’m trying so hard to overcome, but I’m so scared. My insides tremble when I think someone might be starting to love me. I thank both of you for this ridiculous conviction I seem to have to stay alone. I’m good at the random one night stands, but long term is like a compilation of all horror movies.

So thank you, my fathers. For instilling this fear, this coldness, this fate.
Your Daughter, 21