If only you could see where I am now. I'm 19, graduated high school, engaged, and you have a grandson you'll never see. Not that you'd want to, anyway. You're too consumed by your meth pipe to even acknowledge the world around you.

Where were you when I was 7 years old, struggling with my first period, being made fun of at school for being more developed than my friends, growing up and hating myself? Where were you when I was dealing with anxiety, depression, self-harm, counselling, bullying, and self hate? Oh, that's right; You were off somewhere being a deadbeat piece of crap.

I don't know why it bothers me so much. I have a mother and a wonderful step-dad, whom I consider to be my REAL father, and they actually love me. I guess it just gets to me because when I was crying, wanting you to love me, you were busy getting high and going to jail. Repeatedly. You're a sorry excuse for a human being, and I was just your, "get out of jail free," card. I'm referring to when I was 16, lying in a hospital, comatose, and you were off in a jail cell somewhere. I had overdosed during a suicide attempt, and my mother found me a few hours later. I was airlifted to a hospital 3 hours away to have my stomach pumped, and they didn't know if I'd make it. My mother thought she'd be so nice as to call your jailers and let them know. Of course, you broke out the waterworks, and soon they let you out to deal with "family" matters. Conveniently enough, you only talked to me about five times after that.

When I was 17, you said you wanted to be a part of my life. You said you'd pick me up for Christmas so we could spend time together. Well, I'm 18 now, and it's almost Easter... Guess there was a lot of traffic.

So this is my goodbye to you. This is me saying farewell to all the stress I've undergone in hopes that you'd actually want to be a part of my life. I hope when you're 80 years old, rotting in a nursing home with brain damage from all the drugs you've absorbed, that you think about your grandson, who will never see your face. I hope you regret the fact that another man will walk me down the aisle at my wedding; The fact that your whole life is passing you by, while you inject yourself with ignorance. You could have chosen to be a father from the day I was born, but you chose to be a druggie instead. I refuse to continue to miss you. I refuse to keep having such poisonous feelings that turn my thoughts into a landfill. I choose to grow a garden in my head, and I'll never let you kill my flowers.