Dear Dad,

Addressing you as "Father" seems too formal or impersonal, but maybe I should. You may sometimes be around, however it doesn't feel as if you are truly there. Our conversations are short and resemble polite conversation with a stranger or a distant relative. I don't really understand how it got this way.

We use to be close when I was very young. Or maybe it felt that way because I was blinded by the love I had for my father. I never had any reason to doubt you or believe that you wouldn't be there for me. That illusion began to shatter the day that we were separated. Leaving that day hurt as I felt I never got to really say goodbye to the bond I thought we had shared. As the years went on, we grew farther apart. You were always focused on everything and everyone else except the daughter that needed you. I don't know if you had always been like that but as time went on, I had more reason to believe that you have.

I use to love spending every weekend with you. But soon it felt as you were only obligated to have me and my siblings and you spent the time putting negative thoughts into our heads. We would go home at the end of the weekend feeling drained and angry. All I wanted was to have a "normal" family again. That idea was too far out of reach.

It got worse when you found someone. I had always blamed her for pulling you away but it was your own doing. Spending time over there became unbearable and you stopped paying attention. Birthdays rolled around and you never called. Holidays were never very important. Weekend visits turned into us stopping by and only being there for a short time as you were too focused on everything else. You spent the time complaining that we never call as you held your phone in your hand. Then you would turn your attention back to your giant TV, watching anything that was on, completely forgetting that your children were sitting by you for the first time in months.

I want to say that I still never want to give up on you. I want you to be in my life but not in the way you are now. I don't want to be angry but I feel as if I could scream in front of you and you would never hear it. I don't want it to be that way however, you're not in a hurry to try. I still love you because you're my father, though it doesn't feel as though you are really my Dad anymore.

I'll still always be your daughter, just not your little girl.