They say guilt is to the spirit what pain is to the body. Throughout my life I’ve carried a lot of guilt, failures and many disappointments, but as I lie here reflecting on my life, my biggest regret is not being the kind of father of which you were completely worthy. I lost my way. I let drinking become my outlet, my place where I could shut everything away, even the people I cared about the most. I guess it's only fitting now that the same thing that masked my darkness and took away my family is now taking my life from me.
I'm sorry, Jesse, for every time I’ve demanded respect, instead of earning it. For saying “No,” simply because I could. For every time I’ve told you to be humble and then turned around and told you that losing wasn’t an option. For limiting my love, for every time you’ve needed a father and I gave you something less because I didn’t think my love was enough. But most of all, I’m sorry for not saying sorry until it was too late.
My only hope now is that in my death you spend the rest of your life knowing who you are, instead of proving who you are. Don’t become me, son. Don’t walk around with hate and anger. Be the man I never could be.
I love you for you. Your worth is conditional on nothing.
Your father,
John.
The crinkle of the paper sounds deafening as she folds the letter back into its folded form. Not knowing what to say, I let the silence grow between us as I replay his words over in my mind.
Your worth is conditional on nothing.
“You okay?” she finally asks, her words hoarse and breaking me out of my thoughts. Aren’t these the words I always longed to hear?
“I have been searching for his acceptance my whole life, and now he gives it to me, but I have no idea what to do with it.” I move to the table and take a seat next to her.
“What were you expecting?” she asks and I have to stop to think about my answer. It’s not that I’m dissatisfied with what he wrote, but more so of what I don’t feel reading it. An instant gratification that he was wrong and I was right doesn’t wash over me. His words don’t take away the hurt he had weaved into my life. They almost seem too perfect.
“Peace,” I finally reply, knowing in that moment my mother was right. My father apologizing was never going to set me free all the wrong doings he had done. Nor would it make it all okay. Letting my past control how I lived was never about him, but me. Yes, my need to feel worthy stemmed from him, but I had the power all along to let it go. Only I didn’t see it. Until now.
“I’m a fucking idiot.” I stand and pull out my phone.
“What are you doing?” Kadence asks, her eyes growing wide with anticipation.
“Calling, Bell.” I scroll through my recent contacts, hit her name and bring the phone up to my ear. I’m not even sure she’s going to answer, but I have to try.
“Hello.” Her voice shocks me for a second before I compose myself and speak.
“Bell?”
“Hi, Jesse?” she answers. Not angry, or sad, just resigned.
“I’m, umm. I-” I stumble with what to say. I didn’t think that far ahead when I decided I was going to try to call her. I look down at Kadence as she nods her encouragement.
“How are you?” I ask and start to move back to my room. Kadence pouts, annoyed she will miss out on our conversation, but I know I can’t do this in front of her.
“I’ve been better.” Her soft reply brings me back to the moment and has me wanting to reach through the phone to her. For her.
Reaching my room, I close the door and walk to the bed. “I fucked up, sweetheart,” I admit, knowing I don’t have any right to ask for forgiveness, but still needing it all the more. “I wasn’t in a good place and I don’t know what the hell I was thinking…” I trail off, my head remembering parts of that day and wishing I could shut it all out. How could I have been so fucking stupid? Out of everyone in my life, she was the one who brought me peace. She was the one who constantly tried to help me move past it.
“You still there?” I ask, realizing I got lost in my head for a minute.
“Yeah,” she whispers and I wait for more, but it doesn’t come.
“Say something, Bell,” I plead, still holding onto hope that I haven’t pushed away the one person in this world who gets me.
“Jesse, I can’t do this with you right now.” She sighs, ignoring my confession.
“Don’t give up on me, Bell,” I beg, not sure if we can come back but willing to do anything she needs me to.
After reading my father’s words, I want to try. I don’t want to be him. I don’t want to live my life in this regret any longer. I might not ever forget what he put us through, but I know letting it go is the only way I can move forward. Move forward with her.
“I know you weren’t yourself, Jesse. You were hurting and dealing in your own way. It doesn’t make it right, nor does it make things between us better, but I’m glad you finally see something has to change.” Her soft voice clenches my heart.
“Things are going to change, Bell. I promise.” I believe it more than I’ve ever believed in anything before.
“I hope so for you, Jesse.”
“For us,” I correct her, needing her to know where my head is at.
“Jesse, right now there is no us.”
“Don’t say that, sweetheart. There will always be an us. I know I have a lot of work to do, but I’m not giving up.”
I'm sorry, Jesse, for every time I’ve demanded respect, instead of earning it. For saying “No,” simply because I could. For every time I’ve told you to be humble and then turned around and told you that losing wasn’t an option. For limiting my love, for every time you’ve needed a father and I gave you something less because I didn’t think my love was enough. But most of all, I’m sorry for not saying sorry until it was too late.
My only hope now is that in my death you spend the rest of your life knowing who you are, instead of proving who you are. Don’t become me, son. Don’t walk around with hate and anger. Be the man I never could be.
I love you for you. Your worth is conditional on nothing.
Your father,
John.
The crinkle of the paper sounds deafening as she folds the letter back into its folded form. Not knowing what to say, I let the silence grow between us as I replay his words over in my mind.
Your worth is conditional on nothing.
“You okay?” she finally asks, her words hoarse and breaking me out of my thoughts. Aren’t these the words I always longed to hear?
“I have been searching for his acceptance my whole life, and now he gives it to me, but I have no idea what to do with it.” I move to the table and take a seat next to her.
“What were you expecting?” she asks and I have to stop to think about my answer. It’s not that I’m dissatisfied with what he wrote, but more so of what I don’t feel reading it. An instant gratification that he was wrong and I was right doesn’t wash over me. His words don’t take away the hurt he had weaved into my life. They almost seem too perfect.
“Peace,” I finally reply, knowing in that moment my mother was right. My father apologizing was never going to set me free all the wrong doings he had done. Nor would it make it all okay. Letting my past control how I lived was never about him, but me. Yes, my need to feel worthy stemmed from him, but I had the power all along to let it go. Only I didn’t see it. Until now.
“I’m a fucking idiot.” I stand and pull out my phone.
“What are you doing?” Kadence asks, her eyes growing wide with anticipation.
“Calling, Bell.” I scroll through my recent contacts, hit her name and bring the phone up to my ear. I’m not even sure she’s going to answer, but I have to try.
“Hello.” Her voice shocks me for a second before I compose myself and speak.
“Bell?”
“Hi, Jesse?” she answers. Not angry, or sad, just resigned.
“I’m, umm. I-” I stumble with what to say. I didn’t think that far ahead when I decided I was going to try to call her. I look down at Kadence as she nods her encouragement.
“How are you?” I ask and start to move back to my room. Kadence pouts, annoyed she will miss out on our conversation, but I know I can’t do this in front of her.
“I’ve been better.” Her soft reply brings me back to the moment and has me wanting to reach through the phone to her. For her.
Reaching my room, I close the door and walk to the bed. “I fucked up, sweetheart,” I admit, knowing I don’t have any right to ask for forgiveness, but still needing it all the more. “I wasn’t in a good place and I don’t know what the hell I was thinking…” I trail off, my head remembering parts of that day and wishing I could shut it all out. How could I have been so fucking stupid? Out of everyone in my life, she was the one who brought me peace. She was the one who constantly tried to help me move past it.
“You still there?” I ask, realizing I got lost in my head for a minute.
“Yeah,” she whispers and I wait for more, but it doesn’t come.
“Say something, Bell,” I plead, still holding onto hope that I haven’t pushed away the one person in this world who gets me.
“Jesse, I can’t do this with you right now.” She sighs, ignoring my confession.
“Don’t give up on me, Bell,” I beg, not sure if we can come back but willing to do anything she needs me to.
After reading my father’s words, I want to try. I don’t want to be him. I don’t want to live my life in this regret any longer. I might not ever forget what he put us through, but I know letting it go is the only way I can move forward. Move forward with her.
“I know you weren’t yourself, Jesse. You were hurting and dealing in your own way. It doesn’t make it right, nor does it make things between us better, but I’m glad you finally see something has to change.” Her soft voice clenches my heart.
“Things are going to change, Bell. I promise.” I believe it more than I’ve ever believed in anything before.
“I hope so for you, Jesse.”
“For us,” I correct her, needing her to know where my head is at.
“Jesse, right now there is no us.”
“Don’t say that, sweetheart. There will always be an us. I know I have a lot of work to do, but I’m not giving up.”
