a letter to dad

i wish a lot of things were different when you were alive, many of which i couldn’t change even though i wanted to, you were my dad and there was no other
you were a good father to me, never laid a single finger on me, while you were a below average spouse to my mother
your hands and your speech were far too harsh for her, and to be frank they were too harsh for my young and tender ears to hear and my eyes to see
out of all the things i wish were different, one sticks further out in my mind than the others, i wish you could’ve somehow been happier with yourself
i don’t know why you drugged yourself into a pit of desire, i often ponder it was to block the pain of existence like one uses an umbrella blocks the rain from himself
but i often yearn that you could’ve figured it out, because you would tell me how much i looked like you, that you were so proud of me right now, even though i feel like i’ve fallen behind
like a father often should, you always said i made you so proud, and those are the things i try to remember, even when in my mind i think of you as not so kind