An hour away, just a measly 50 miles. Yet it might as well be a million miles. Heck, it might be light years. A trip to the moon and back. He’s there, I know he is. Knowing this makes life hard. The suffering is there with every breath. I am crushed by this knowledge. Why didn’t he say anything? We just spoke not 4 days ago. He is up here from Florida for a court case. I guess I can argue he is busy, maybe too busy. But that just compounds that pressure on my chest, my heart deflating with sadness. Too busy for his own daughter? Really? Or does he just not care. Does he even love me? It is just a quick hop, skip and a jump from one to the other. I know, one doesn’t mean the other is true. But try telling your heart that.

The logic just doesn’t hold. Not much sense in it, all pure emotion. More of a wish I may, wish I might kinda scenario. I long for something more, something different, something normal. Fathers are supposed to love and cherish their daughters. Any opportunity to see them is jumped upon with excitement and happiness. Not here, not in this fucking reality I am living. Not even a phone call.

The anger creeps in, and is quickly swept aside. How can I be angry with him, I love him. But never the less it persists in the background like a moth at the screen in the window- bap, bap, bap. Seeking the light from the depths of the darkness. Why won’t I let it out, see it for what it is. I should be angry, he has failed yet again. Forget anger, let there be rage. Unleash it, yell, scream and stomp because that is well justified. But instead there is sadness and an overwhelming sense of loss. What could have been. What never will be, in these waning years of his time here on earth. Why bother even voice it, why even shed light upon the issue. There is no teaching this old dog new tricks. He is set in his ways. As he always has been.

It was different once, long ago when I was the apple of his eye. He called me cupcake and took me places. We fished the high seas and traveled the globe. One place more exotic than the next. It was exciting and wonderous. Somehow in the passing of years things changed. That love was replaced with a smutty mixture of apathy and anger. In some cases, outright hatred. How have we come so far from where we started? The answer isn’t easy, but my guess is with each failure I took a step back. The distance grew and grew. Finally it seems a million miles. He is awkward and reticent in my presence. Uncomfortable emotions palpable in the room each time. He doesn’t know what to say, or how to say it. I have done that. My history and my behaviors cause them to walk on egg shells. Never knowing what to say or do when I am around. It is so very sad and alienating. When all I need and want is closeness, and to feel connected, I get silence and a giant disconnect. In that silence the distance grows. Each visit worse than the last, till finally there are no more visits. Is this all because of me? I can’t help but blame myself and feel worse. The sadness is crushing. In this reality, I  am like that moth outside the window, seeking the light, bap, bap, bap….