I thought of him in moments of sadness, at times when the hole in my heart felt deeper then the depths of the ocean.

I thought of him in moments when I felt as though the silences of the night would gobble me whole and when I was so overcome with fear that I almost couldn’t breathe.

I thought of him on birthdays, before I would blow out the candles and make yet another wish that wouldn’t come true.

I thought of him in times of loneliness, when I had to curl myself up in a ball to get through the night, and in moments when all the tears I held in threatened to drown me from the inside. 

I noticed his absence in times of happiness when I would think of the times he would make me laugh.

I thought of spoken promises never kept and never forgotten.

I thought of him in moments, so many moments.

I thought of moments when he loved me.

Then I thought, if he had ever really loved me at all, I wouldn’t have lived my life in moments. All these moments I had spent filled with thoughts of him could have been moments he had been there, with me, loving me.

I thought of moments wasted, a young heart fooled and of a daughter with no moments left to spare for him…

Her father.


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