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Dear Kim,
I’m so sorry. I can never forgive myself, and I want you to know that. I need to apologize, and for you to forgive me. It's too late, I know that. I can't ever have the forgiveness I need so badly. But I’m still writing you to say I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry, that sometimes it's all I can think about: you, and how bad I treated you. I never meant to hurt you, or cause you any harm. If I’d known, I’d have done anything in my power to try and change things. Or maybe not. I say that I would protect you now, but what really scares me is that if I’d known then and there, I might still have remained in the background and let things go the way they did. Maybe I’d have been to scared to lift a hand and say stop. I hate myself for knowing that. It took me a long time in therapy to just be able to admit that to myself. Finally building up the courage to tell you, is even harder. I’m still the weak, irresponsible child I was, but that's no excuse. I miss you. I wish you were still here, so I could hold you, and comfort you. I never got a chance to do that. I know that fact is gonna be with me for the rest of my life. Because I didn't care then, I’ll suffer for ever. Regretting that I didn't do anything, that I didn't involve myself in others feelings enough to know what was going on with you. If I could go back and change things, I would. If I only got to change one thing in my life, I’d choose that. No question. I call you Kim. That's not your name, I know. But I don't know you, and I needed a name to identify you by, so I picked Kim. It could fit for both a boy and a girl. 'It' is just... cold. I hate it when somebody talks about you as an 'it'. You're not an it. You're you. You just never got a chance to show the world who you were, and what you could do. You never got to smile, or laugh. You never got to be happy, and be loved. You were kept from so much happiness and joy, but also from pain. Life is filled with pain. A part of me is glad you were spared for that, but it can never weigh up to all the good things in life. In the end, the happy moments are what you remember clearest. You won't remember anything. Or will you? I don't know. I’ve tried to think, but I don't know what to believe. They keep telling me you won't. That you'll never know what I did to you, but I can't believe them. ‘Cause what if you did? I’m so afraid that I’ll go to hell when I die because of what I did to you. I hope of all my heart that I’ll go to Heaven, and meet you there. I know you're in Heaven. Where else would an innocent be? Maybe you'll be there, and hold your arms open to hug me when I arrive, and tell me you love me. Tell me that I’m forgiven. I’ve caught myself wanting to die, just so that I could have that. But I’m too afraid of ending up in hell to commit suicide. Sometimes I dream at night, about meeting you in Heaven. Those are nice dreams, that make me cry. I have bad ones too. They make me cry as well. I can't count how many times I’ve played the conversation with her in my head. Over and over. I’ve analyzed every word she said, and every word I said. I know it by heart. I’ve thought about when we met, and were with each other, but I don't remember much of it. It wasn't like it was a one time occurrence for me, and she didn't mean anything special. It wasn't until she told me about you that she started being a part of my life. We don't have any contact though. But I think of her a lot. Does she lie sleepless at night, like me? Does she wake from dreams about you, when she does get some sleep? Does she love you? I love you. I always will. I’m so sorry I didn't know her well enough that I’d be there when she found out about you. If I had known her, she would have told me before she took her decision, not after it was all over. She wouldn't have just called to tell me it was over. Cold and hard. If I’d know her, if I’d cared about her, I could have stopped it from happening. If I’d loved her, then maybe she wouldn't have wanted to do it either. I’m so sorry you never got to live. I’m so sorry I killed you. It was her who took the decision of aborting you, but it was my fault also. If I’d just been there... I’d give anything to go back and undo it. I’m so sorry. You'll always be in my heart: my first child. I’ll never forget you. I don't know anything about you, nobody does, but I love you still. I love you so much that it hurts.
Your father,
Dave |