Even writing those words feels like a lie, but I guess thatís all that is left of you in my eyes- liesÖand pain. I wonder if youíll ever realise the extent of the damage youíve caused and exactly how much youíve hurt me. The hard, cruel part of me, that was partially created by your twisted ways and partially developed for my own self protection, wants you to know, wants you to feel every molecule of pain that has been killing me slowly over the last four years. It wants you to hurt, wants you to writhe in agony, knowing that youíve ruined any relationship you could have had with your daughter, knowing that you have fucked up your life.
Not me, not mum as you have tried to pretend for so many years, but YOU.
The part of me that is still a little girl, wants her dad. But she never had one, did she? She had a selfish, twisted and above all, WEAK man who contributed half of her genetic information, then proceeded to warp her to his will and turn her against everyone she loved. She had someone who betrayed her trust in the worst way imaginable and tried to turn her into a good little wife in every possible way.
All of me knows that you will never see things this way, that you are incapable of facing the truth, particularly regarding what happened that night, but I donít care anymore, I have validation from everybody who matters and I know IT DID HAPPEN, no matter what you try to make people believe. I wish it hadnít, but I know that it did because I would never hate myself so much over something non-existent. I wouldnít cringe every time someone tried to touch me, I wouldnít instinctively fear big men, I wouldnít have cried myself to sleep as many nights as I have and I wouldnít think of you and what you tried to do whenever someone wants to sleep with me.
You have no idea what I have gone though in the past few years, dealing with what you did to me or tried to do to me (as far as I am concerned there is no discernable difference). Unlike you, I couldnít just run away and pretend it never happened, although the real irony is that I tried to for almost two years afterwards and failed- obviously I am not as talented in self-delusion as you are. But I couldnít hide from the memories that haunted me, I had to face the reality of all that you had done and even worse, all that I had done at your bidding.
I canít actually decide which is worse: the damage that you have done to my soul, or the guilt I feel for all the damage I did to other people on your behalf. What kind of man turns his daughter against his wife, her own mother?! Did you really despise her so much that your own hatred for her wasnít enough, you had to make me hate her too? Why did you have to involve me in your petty games? Why did you have to take things so far? Why did you have to isolate me from everyone I loved, including my adored Pommar?
Was it in your head even then, what you were going to do that night? Didnít you even think of what kind of effect it would have had on me, if you had succeeded? You would have managed to turn your daughter into your lover, but you would have destroyed me in the process. As it is, you almost did.
For a long time I wanted to die every time I thought of you and everything that had happened. It was sheer force of will that kept me alive- that and Mum. She knew something was wrong and took me to see Dora and the two of them saved my life through the therapy you incidentally refused to help pay for. You could never actually act in another personís best interests, even then.
Are you beginning to get the picture now, you selfish prick? Do you see why I refuse to see you, why I canít even bear to speak to you? Are you finally starting to understand the magnitude of what you have done and how much I hate you for it? Do you now realise that I will never see you by choice, that you will not be invited to my wedding, that you will have NO CONTACT with any children I may have, that I would rather die than let a daughter of mine anywhere near you after what you did? Do you get what Iím trying to say?
Daddy, you bastard, FUCK YOU.