Dear you,
I chart my existence in routes that assiduously keep our interactions to the minimum. And I have done this since the day you first got custody of me. I’m tired of returning ‘home’; nowhere is home and I’m convinced I got my nomadic tugs from our relationship.
Every time your name shows up on my phone a sick feeling goes through me as the days were fine as it is until I am reminded of you. You’ve got a new family, possibly growing too? I can disappear more surely now until all the reminder of you that I have is the name at the end of my byline.
To you, I am a mere extension of your genes, invisible until signs of my unique humanity need to be erased whenever I don’t measure up to the example that is you.
But I am not you, I can never be you and I will strip all and every indication still clinging on me that has ties to you. It’s too late to change my name now so you can have that victory if you like but I am no longer acceding the rest of my life to you and yours.
This will soon be done, one more year of school and we are finished. Have a good life Papa, I will no longer be in it.
