Grief

I haven't talked to you in so long. Well not soooo long, but it's been a few months, I started missing you a long time ago. Even tired to hold out and wait for your call, or shall I say your excuse(s). Needless to say, I broke down. You didn't seem to happy to hear from me though. Thought I had "left the country" huh? How concerned!
You know, it all started with you daddy. You were my first disappointment. My first let-down. Don't you think it should've been so different with me and you? I do. And secretly sometimes I hate you for it, through all my love I have for you, I hate you just as much. And you'd never know it. Because no matter what, instantly when I see you, hear you, talk to you, I become: daddy's little girl all over again. Why would you have that power over me? Why would I give it to you, harvest it, and allow it to grow throughout these years?
I haven't called back like I said I would, and not because I want to teach you a lesson, but because I want you to make the first move. I want to know you care.
Come visit me. I've been gone 4 years, you've never visited...ever. I haven't seen you in 2. My kids don't know you. You don't know my kids. You can barely remember their names at times. And I'm shaking my heading and laughing as I typed that, but daddy, that shit hurts the most.