"It's never gonna be how it was" she said.
My eyes glued to the obituary she found almost a decade ago. "You know, honey, that void is real".
She likes me better in the dark. She loves me when the lights are turned on.
I tell her how empty I feel. Emptier than I ever have. "It's a sign of the times" she explains.
If I could just go back and make that phone call. Said goodbye like a gentleman. Wished you the best. Told you I pray to the God you don't believe in that He will bring you peace. Maybe, joy. And love from someone better than me. If I could, I would.
Fathers Day is for the daughters. Ones like you.
My eyes glued to the obituary you found almost a decade ago. I'm not even mentioned. That void is real. Tangible. Bottomless. You'll never have to fuck your way to the top. Happy Fathers Day, honey.
I'm never gonna drink again, he said.
I'm never gonna fuck again, she said.
I'll never be loved again like that, I said.
I'll never marry, he said.
I'll never be understood, she said.
I'll never learn, I said.
I'll never reach my potential, he said.
I'll never see that face again, she said.
I'll never make promises again, I said.
I can't stand seeing you with someone else. I hate a man I've never met. And he's not even my father. Yet, I'm torn between wanting you happy and hoping you're alone so you come back to me.
I'll never lie to you, she said.
I'll never give up, he said.
I'll never abandon you, I said.
That void is real, honey. Tangible. Bottomless. Keep fucking your way to the top.
Happy Father Day, love.
