Me

    Hi My name is D and I am seventeen years old. My father is a retired Marine and is currently working as a police officer. I'm starting this blog because I need to talk to someone... I do not know who is going to read this but I am hoping that someone, anyone, will read it. My father isn't a bad father, not really. But he hasn't been the best either. I don't have the emotional energy to explain what all has happened in the past few years but eventually through this blog, you'll understand. Recently my father and I have had a falling out. He broke my heart more than anyone could ever even try to do. He has always been emotionally un-available, but I never stopped trying to be loved by him.
    When I was about eight years old I realized that my father would never stop working. Don't get me wrong, his job is important, but shouldn't I be more important? I just couldn't understand. My older brother and me only saw our dad a few times a year, our parents are divorced. My oldest three siblings weren't around much either. They had a different mother. I love them so much though. So any way this thought came over me one summer while visiting my father that maybe if I just told him how I felt about him working all the time instead of playing with my siblings and I, that he would love me so much for telling him and spend all the time in the world with us. That was a terrible misconception. I waited to talk to him, I didn't want to be interrupted. When we arrived home from our visit I fretted seriously over what to say, and one day it came to me. So I sat down with my note book and pencil and I wrote my first letter ever. I was so proud of myself! I told him that I did not like him being a cop because when he worked he didn't get to see me and my brother J. I said that I love him so much and miss him even when I'm with him because he wasn't really there he was always at work, even on Christmas. I was so happy that I was able to get all of my feelings out there all written down on paper. I went up to my mommy and asked her if she wanted to read it but she said no. She said that my letter was to my father and that it really wasn't any of her business. I was happy enough with that response and let her mail it for me. I waited and waited for a response to that letter. I day dreamed in school that my father, my hero, would show up and be the father that I needed and wanted in my life. He didn't... Instead he called my mom and yelled at her. He blamed her for what I said. He made my mom cry for me expressing my feelings. I have never been able to forgive him for that.
    I've always made excuses for my father and I'm tired of it. I want a relationship with him. I mean, we used to be so close. Or at least I tried to pull myself closer to him. But it has never worked, and I'm afraid. I am afraid that no matter what I do my father will die and I will have never known him. Lately I can not even talk to him. Not after what happened this summer. So I have started this blog in order to maybe sort through my problems and to give anyone out there reading this a chance to talk about theirs too. I want to know what you think. I apologize in advanced if my stories come out in fragments, a jumbled mess and, even completely out of order but they are what make my heart bleed in sorrow, and I need to let them out. Even if it is one little bit at a time. Please don't miss understand me. Police officers have a very important job, and not all of them are like my father. This is only one story of the life from one police officer. I am a cops daughter, and this is my diary.
-D