Broken.

Dreams. Wishes. Hopes. Wishing for something that is most likely never going to happen. It all seems rather pointless, doesn’t it? There is no point to it. It is never going to happen no matter how desperately you wish it would. I used to be naive. Stupid even. I used to think if I wanted something to happen badly enough it would. I thought there was something out there. A form greater than the human race that would ensure my dreams would come true. That I would feel loved. Wanted. It never happened and I finally lost all hope. I was no longer the little girl who longed for the day her father would finally decide she wanted to be a part of his daughter’s life. I was no longer the girl who continuously waited for the day her father would show up at her doorstep. It was just my mother and I. It’s always been that way and it’s never going to change.
As I grew older I realised that my father didn’t want me. He didn’t want anything to do with me. It made me feel abandoned. It made me feel as if no one wanted me. I wasn’t good enough for him and I never will be. No one will want me. The only person I can trust is my mother. She is the only person who I know would never lie to me. The only person I can guarantee will always be there for me. I am grateful to have her in my life, although there was one thing she never gave me a straight answer about and that was my father.
When I was younger, when I still believed in mermaids and genies, I would constantly ask my mum about it. I needed to know details. I need closure which is something I never got. All I wanted was a name. Maybe a photo. Or a reason why. I needed to know why he didn’t want me. What had I done that was so terrible? Or was it my mother? Had she done something to drive him away? Something so bad that he didn’t even want to be in his own daughter’s life. Even as an uncredited guest appearance. I gave up asking. I gave up hoping. It was just me and my mum and I had to deal with it.
I pushed everyone away. I couldn’t commit to friendship. Any sort of communication or closeness was forbidden. I had created my own set of rules I had to follow strictly. No friends. No warmth or closeness. I couldn’t lose anyone else. Truth be told, I didn't lose my father. I couldn't lose something I never had. I couldn’t risk getting crushed again. I didn't need to be hurt. Neglected. Unwanted. I couldn’t face rejection. And to avoid rejection I distanced myself from everyone apart from my mum. I was a cold hearted bitch. I couldn’t have feelings. Not that anyone knew about anyway. My emotions needed to be kept hidden . This is what my father had done to me. He had reduced me to a heartless person. Someone who didn’t feel. Someone who was numb. I wish I was numb. Heartless. Because then I wouldn’t be subject to pain.
If my father could see what I had become because of him maybe he would regret neglecting me. Maybe I could become whole again, if only I could meet him. I needed closure. I knew that was never going to happen though. Dreams and wishes are for little girls. And the deluded.