There Is No Substitute For Real Love

This is a fictionalized letter to my father about the reasons I am like I am.

Dear Daddy,

          When you went away and the Mommy went to bed, I didn't know where you had gone. I was told you were traveling, but no one travels that long. My small girl heart didn't know what things meant, so I would ask, but the answers were lies. I don't blame the Mommy, she went to bed and I gave her orange juice and tried to find out why she was crying. She couldn’t tell me. But, that's not all. You were the fun one, you were loud and silly and smart and we looked at the stars together out in the courtyard under the Jacaranda tree.  When you went away--for many years after-- the Mommy said that you had been traveling. The day you came home, I ran to hug you and kiss you and love you and ask you where you were why'd you go, I missed you so much I cried. The Mommy told me to leave you alone. Your eyes were sad or dark or other-than-regular. I didn't understand where you were. You were standing in our Los Feliz House--the one over the Shakespeare Bridge and you were not yourself. Anyone could see that. I didn't know what to do. Because the Mommy told me to leave you alone, I thought it had something to do with me.

         We still took long walks through the streets and up and down the stairwells in rain or shine. We listened to records on the oriental rug in the living room. You taught me to sing.

         Many years later, when I was seventeen, drunk on Thanksgiving, I threw this tantrum saying to the Mommy, you lied to me, you left us in this house where my sister got beaten and Daddy went away and you said he was traveling. At this point, I was told you had a psychotic break and that you had been on Thorazine and that I wasn't told because you didn't want me to think there was mental illness in the family or not understand what it was, but either way, lie or no lie---I felt it. I knew something was different. I just didn't know it didn't have to with me. 

          You went off Thorazine, you seem better, you are happy and dancing but there is a lost thing that we had between us. I was your favorite, we were close, now there was a space that I couldn't get back. I saw your love still in your eyes. You told me I had a pure heart, you told me I was the most special kind of person that there was and that life was going to be hard for me because I love things more than other people love things. I feel more, I am more open, I am happier and sadder and all that stuff. You told me I was the most beautiful thing, the thing that no one could touch, I would take over the world, but it would be hard and I would feel everything but you told me not to change myself just because I was different. So, I didn't.

         But, what I remember and what I can't take back or change now, is there were years when you were angry or moody or couldn't talk to me in that old way and I never knew how it was going to be. I was just a kid, I tried my best to understand you. You were my first great love. When you told me I couldn't marry you I stomped my feet and said, "Who will I marry, then? No one will be as good as you and no one will love me like you do so why would I get married?" I was depressed at the age of 5 or 6 or whatever that age was when you told me I'd find someone else to marry. It's so weird, but over the last month I've had three different men ask me why I never got married and I didn't know what to say to them, but what I can say to you, is no one was smart enough and funny enough and liked me enough for whatever weird overly energetic happy to be in the world but sad when I saw an orphan bunny kind of person I was. You did. There is no substitute for real love.

         The Mommy did her best to protect me from whatever was wrong with you and you did your best to help me see what kind of person I really was. You told me I was the smartest, funniest, most brilliant one. But, you were right. My life was hard. You had problems and couldn't see me as much as I wanted to see you. You never called me on the phone. I thought these things meant you didn't love me. All my other friends saw their Daddy's even if they were divorced. I really thought something had happened that made you not love me. I asked you about it more than once, but you always said it was ridiculous. I find in life people say things are ridiculous when they are not accountable or can’t give a logical reason. They don't show up and have an excuse. I know why though. I always know why. It's just that even if what I know is wrong. I just can't help it from being that.

         Whenever I come home for Christmas you tell me to stay over, I know you are hurt that I don't. Things happened in that house that I still remember�"not things that had to do with you, but the whole adolescent disillusionment happened there. I started writing there. I did cocaine on the floor of my room. I made a girl dry hump me in my bed and I made out with my first boyfriend and then broke up with him when he wanted to have sex. I wanted to stay innocent.  You say you could just have me there forever and ever and I love you that way too, it's just I'm out here trying to be a person and make a life for myself.  You were lucky you found the Mommy when you were young and handsome and you two made a life. I am lucky in a different way. My idealism and uniqueness has kept me silent or hidden or vanishing from individuals that want to trap me, but still I perform for the people who know what it is I am and what it is I do without letting them get too close. The ones I don't care about are safest. The ones who want to get close I push out. I am afraid that something will happen to them, like that thing that happened to you. I just want you to know that that thing that happened to you also happened to me. It still affects me, but I love you even though we are not close like I want. I know you love me although sometimes I can’t feel it like I want to.

           I know I never have said these things, because truthfully they embarrass me, I am an adult and should be able to shake it, but I just can't.

           Your daughter in all ways that can be counted, felt, expanded upon but never diminished.

With my whole heart,

Lisa

Author's Note

I was thinking how many submissions you must get and how it makes you think you have too much to read and most of it makes you want to CRY because we are trying to express our hearts--but all you really want is to get home to your lover or series of lovers or eat pizza and pet your sweet dog while watching the Simpsons. I salute you dear sirs and madams and hope my entries don't make you sick with the kind of jealousy that would make you eat a whole pint of ice cream or something.

Reviews

[Eagle Cruagh]

A heartbreaking story.
Nothing I can say here will or can
do justice to this tale of love, trajedy
and denial.
From the first paragraph I was completely
in the hands of the writer. Beautiful
about a beautiful , intelligent , talented
girl who has written the story of her life
here without hardly a mention of herself.
Full of tears ------
---- John

[Emily Rae]

this is by far, the MOST moving piece of writing that I have come across on this site.
Your style of writing is candid and eccentric. I look forward to reading more.