From day one I loved him.

I would make his bed on the floor and wait for him to come home.

He would work late and sleep all day. I did not really know who he was but I loved him anyway.

Only six years old and I can still hear the words he sung to me as i fell asleep.

Only six but the cold words he spoke to my mother still run through my head.

He called her names I could not repeat. Even though he hurt my mother, I still loved him

As she grew sicker the weaker he became and the strong I had to be.

After her fight was finally over, he told me he wished it was him instead.

Only eight years old but I did not shed a tear though my mother was not coming home.

Not one tear formed or left my eye because I had to be strong for him.

After the day we put my mother in the ground did I realize we buried him too.

He would go to work, come home, sleep, stare at the wall then repeat. The light I was once saw in him was gone.

Only eight years old when he made me parentless.

As time passed I only saw him once a day for only a hour never more. We did not speak just sat there but I still loved him

I still loved him even though he did not speak or move. I stilled loved him even though he was dead to the world.

My words grew less. Words became foreign to me.

He did not notice the words that came out of my mouth were wrong because he did not listen to a work I said.

He did not notice I no longer showered or comb my hair because he did not look away from the wall.

He did not notice my friends were no longer care because he only cared about himself and his sorrow.

But I still loved him.

Three years passed he started to wake up from his long sleep.

I was happy to have him back again. I was happy to see a little flame in his eyes.

He married again and his wife brought a daughter and a son. Things were good again.

But he grew mean. He would strike me with his belt.

The leather hurt like a thousand pins as it hit my skin over and over again. Every bruise I had because I still loved him.

I still loved him for he was my father.

I still loved him for he was my first love.

I still loved him for I was once his little girl.

I still loved him though he broke my heart.