The man I’ll never be!

I don't even know what to call him. He haven't been around for a single moment of my life, nor has he expressed any regret for that, up until now.

I cannot bring myself to call him my father, my dad or anything remotely close to that. I have my dad, and he is twice the man that Patrick have ever been. His sperm donation was appreciated, but it does not grant him any titles

I understand that he never cared, but even so, because of him I am scarred. As years passed, the burden somehow becomes heavy, and the weight that lies upon my shoulders has progressed. Today, with all of me, I’m trying to let him go. I will not waste nights crying over someone who did not think twice about making the choice that ruined my life. I will not waste hours contemplating why you decided I was not worth staying for. Although I am eager to let him go, the part of me that remains broken by him swells under pressure.

I have been hurting more than he know or care to recognize. Because he actively chose not to participate in my life, some people assume that I am less valuable than other guys. I am no longer a boy with "father issues." Instead, I am now a fatherless person, and it is assumed my life must be half-empty. Years of rehabilitative therapy have led me to the realization that this is not my fault – it is his. He is to blame for this unfortunate situation. I almost wish I had done something to provoke an incident as heartbreaking as the one I live through.

My pain is real, and he is very real to me. But faced with that gaping hole he left behind, a wonderful man chose to step up to the plate and take on the title “dad.” He taught me how to ride a bike, to stand up for myself, to cook, to treat a girl right, to create and to love those around me with such a fire that it inspires them to do the same. No one can ever take the place of the incredible man who raised me, for he was willing to do what he was incapable of. And by God, did he miss out. This man picked me up right where he left off, dusted me off and molded me into a functioning man. The lingering thought of Patrick used to stain the back of my mind, but today, I make the decision to wash this stain away and eliminate any thought of him that may rear its ugly head.

I am through constantly questioning my value, done being heartbroken over his fatal errors and sick and tired of crying over him. Unanswered questions thoroughly haunted my mind for more than a decade. There are so many missing links to my story because he did not take the opportunity to know me. My initial response to hearing about him doing these things was simply to ask why. I wondered what I had done wrong, why I was not good enough for him. Years later, I learned about him being abusive, mind controlling, smoking and alcoholism images in my mind were actually true.

I am no longer alone, though I felt that I had been for most of my life. The worst part was and still is the feeling of isolation – that no one can seem to understand why his absence from my life was unbearably painful at times. To put it simply, the knowledge of his absence scarred me. Learning that it was an active choice ruined me. Hearing about the vile, disgusting things you inflicted upon those I hold dear enraged me.

I realize that his actions and choices made him rotten from the inside out. Nonetheless, I pray that one day, he find himself, for he have been wandering too long. Though he had hurt me every single day, I can’t help but somehow forgive him. My real father has been here for the past 13 years. Out of respect for him, I will never refer to Patrick as anything more than biological. This man is simply half of the genetic recipe, and that is the only role he will ever play in my life.