The Box

Please God, don’t. Don’t take away my Daddy. I haven’t known that he loves me long enough. It feels good to know. I need to know he is here. You can’t just take away my small circle. I’m too alone. I don’t have enough love. All I ever wanted was him. I never had him. At least that is what I thought. I grew up so envious of them all, daddy this and daddy that. Not me. Burning with envy on the inside, smiling without a care on the outside. Over the years, the envy turned to hate, the hate to anger. Then came the box. A few years ago, he showed me the box. All my photos, all my letters. A box of me. He showed me proudly. I was there, all along, in his heart…in the box. The anger turned to acceptance, the acceptance to love. The fine line reversed. We need more time. The box is not full.