I’m writing you a letter. That’s right, a good ole fashioned letter. It’s a lost art really, like hand jobs. I have a confession to make; I didn’t like you very much at first. You were just this annoying little blah. You smelled nice…most of the time, but you didn’t seem to have much interest in me. Which I of course found vaguely insulting. It was just you and your mom against the world. Funny how some things never change. So I cruised along doing my thing and acting the fool, not really understanding how being a parent changes you. And I don’t remember the exact moment everything changed, I just know that it did. One minute I was impenetrable, nothing could touch me. The next, my heart was somehow beating outside of my chest – exposed to the elements. Loving you has been the most profound, intense, painful experience of my life. In fact it’s been almost too much to bear. As your father, I made a silent vow to protect you from the world, never realizing that I was the one who would end up hurting you most. When I flash forward my heart breaks, mostly because I can’t imagine you speaking of me with any sort of pride. How could you? Your father is a child in a man’s body; he cares for nothing and everything at the same time. Noble in thought, weak in action… Something has to change. Something has to give. It’s getting dark, too dark to see.
“If something’s on your chest then let it be known, see I’m not your every five minutes all on the phone. And on the topic of trust, it’s just a matter of fact that people bite back and fracture what’s intact. And they’ll forever be I ain’t on some “oh I’m a celebrity” I deal with the real so if it’s artificial let it be.”—The Roots, You Got Me (via boomboxcarrot)