I may not have told my mom about this, but I’ve always admired Dad when I was still little. I grew up looking up to him because he’s fun and he always gives me what I want.
It only changed when he left us without a word. Months before he left, Mom would always get mad at him for going home late and leaving too early. I couldn’t even see him the whole day because he’s gone when I wake up and I’m already sleeping when he arrives.
Whenever I hear them shouting at each other, I’d run to my room and cry. I cry so silently so they wouldn’t hear me. But then I didn’t hate Dad back then.
I only did when he just suddenly disappeared without a word.
That time, I would always question my worth as a daughter. Was I not enough for him to stay? Did he not love me enough? Did he not think of what
