Nothing is the same now that you're not here. You are my warrior, my hero, and my best friend. You were taken away from me about two years ago, and I won't see you for a long, long time. Not crying is hard, but sometimes I just can't help but to let those salty drops of waste pour down my rosy cheeks. I try my best not to, because I remember how it always hurt you on the inside to see me sad. My stomach hurts and my heart feels like it’s shattered inside me when I think about you, and I'm trying my best to get used to it.

When I was younger, I would lay in bed with the purple blanket you gave me right before you left for war, and stay awake all night waiting for you to come home. I'd even leave the hallway lights on so you would be able to find me. Now I understand that you won't be coming home and you won't be able to find me. I also know you now live in a safe place called heaven, and you're happier where you are.

I started sixth grade this year, and one of my teachers reminds me of you. His voice is loud, yet caring- like yours once was, and he always makes me laugh like you used to. He even has the slick brown hair that you had; only his looks like someone sprinkled salt in it, with all those grey streaks.

Every day at lunch, I open my lunchbox to find a picture of you and me at the park, and it makes my stomach twist up in knots, and I suddenly don't feel hungry anymore. Then, usually a big lump forms right in the middle of my throat, making it hard to hold back my tears. I feel lost, torn apart, and unsafe without you around to protect me, but deep in my heart, I know you are using all your strength to protect me while you are away.

When I was around the age of 5, I thought everything was OK, and you were going to have to come home sooner or later- right? You had to. You were my daddy, and you had to come home! But as I got older, I realized that this time, nothing was Ok- I won’t have a daddy.
Most girls and boys don't understand what it's like to not have their daddy around. To have their daddy not come home. To not have a daddy to play with. To have their daddy be dead. I hate knowing that awful feeling, and having to live with it every waking moment. I know one day I'll get over it, but for now I envy those with daddies' to play with.

I miss my daddy, and I know he misses me. He will always be in my heart and I will never forget him. He fought for our country and died doing it, and it makes me proud to say my daddy fought for me, my freedom, and my country. I’ll see him at the gates of heaven when it’s my time, and I have faith he’ll be waiting for me there. I will love my daddy forever, but it’s time to say goodbye on last time.