He Didn't Even Give Me A Chance
I don't even remember him. He was my dad. He was in the army, and maybe he was even a good father, but I'll never know. My mom never told me, and I think that was what hurt me the most when she finally did. She said that he had chronic depression, that he couldn't help it. But couldn't he have helped it, for me? One thought that haunts me was that it was my fault. I think that maybe I was crying a lot that day, and that convinced him that life wasn't worth living now. I don't know. I don't hate him, I didn't even know him, but I want to know him, but he never gave me that chance.