There was a time in my life that I thought you were the greatest man alive. I got pregnant with your child while we were both still children ourselves.
I was scared, devestated and so mad at myself. You made things okay. You promised you would be there. You promised that we would make it. My first mistake was believing you. You kept your promise for awhile. You stuck by my side through the cravings, and the roller-coaster emotions, you held my hand through the delivery, you woke up with her at night, changed her diapers, worked to help support her.
You were perfect. I was so grateful that you were there to help me, I was so grateful that our daughter had a family. Despite everything I had thought the day I took that pregnancy test, I was happy. I had my own little family and life was good. Little did I know how short lived my happiness would be. And little did I know that the person I trusted and loved so much would be the person to rob me of that happiness. When you left, I was devastated. I was devastated not for me, but for our daughter. For the little girl whose first word was dada, for the little girl who smiled so big every time you walked in a room.
I was devastated that she wouldn’t see mommy and daddy together anymore, but I took comfort in knowing she would still have two parents who loved her, even if they weren’t together. But then you stole that from her. You walked away from her and never looked back. I would hold our baby and cry at night, wishing things could be different with her.
With each and every day that passed with no phone calls or texts from you, no emails, no letters my sadness started to turn to anger. I was angry at you. I was angry that you left me to do it all alone. I was angry that I worked so hard but still had to stress about bills and buying diapers.
I would get angry whenever I would see pictures of you partying on social media, without a care in the world. I was so damn angry at you. But here it is, 2 years later. I’m not angry anymore. I am so happy. Your daughter is 3 years old. You haven’t seen her for almost 2 years.
You have never seen her blown out her 2nd and 3rd birthday candles, talk in sentences, learn her numbers and shapes or dance to her favourite songs. You missed her first day of school and her first school performance. You’ve missed everything. I guess I just want you to know that you lose. I have the greatest gift of all, the gift of child who loves me. And you will have to live with the regret of not knowing the most beautiful little girl that you helped create. And that was your choice.