a practice letter to my biological father
I’m writing this letter because it’s better to start with a first draft, maybe by putting this one out in the world I can send you a better version. You, Jonathan, are my biological father and for reasons you know I was unaware you existed. I knew I had a biological father, but it was a crazy adoption and I was always told that my birth mother didn’t know who you were. So I was able to create my own picture of you, which became one of those modern art pieces. A square, a circle, a cone for your head...just pieces that I had no intention of putting together.
My father wasn’t around much growing up so maybe that’s why I never wanted to know you. I didn’t know what I was missing? My father didn’t teach me to ride a bike, or how to drive, he didn’t teach me to throw a ball or any of those typical things. He loves me, he provides for me, he’s held me when I’ve cried, but we’re not close. We just never got there.
I don’t want to hurt you or make you think I don’t like you, but you didn’t really make an effort to look for me and I got used to the silence. Maybe you’re this really cool guy, maybe I’m missing out, but…
You’re a square, a circle and now maybe a hexagon all of which I can’t seem to want to make fit.