When I Needed A Dad

Ever since I was born, 

I never had a father beside me. 

I've never really met my dad. 

And back then, I didn't 

think much about it. 

I didn't look for him, 

didn't cry for him. 

I just... didn't.

I never said, 

"I wish I had a dad." 

But I guess those words

weren't gone--

just hidden, burried. 

Somewhere deep, 

waiting. 

When we moved 

to another state, 

everything changed. 

The rooms felt heavier, 

and for the first time, 

I felt so alone. 

And that's when those words

came back to life. 

All of a sudden, 

I needed a dad. 

Every time I saw a father

holding his daughter's hand--

I felt something sink inside me.

Like an echo of a memory 

that never really existed. 

And I started asking 

questions I thought I'd

never ask.

Would he have 

walked me to school?

Would he have 

braided my hair on the

first day of school?

Would he have

told me everything was

going to be okay 

in a way that actually 

made me believe it? 

But the older I get...

the more I realize 

that missing someone

you never had 

can still hurt 

like you did. 

Still...his absence taught 

me things too. 

Like how to be strong on my own. 

How to be gentle without needing

someone to teach me. 

How to love people

even when they leave. 

And maybe that's enough. 

Maybe I didn't need a dad

to learn what love looks like. 

Maybe I just needed to 

notice that it's been growing 

in me all along.