An open letter to my father, the first person to break my heart

Dear father, the first person to break my heart,

First and foremost, I’d like to thank you. 
The pain that you inflicted upon me earlier in life led me to grow into a strong woman. 

The first time I fell in love, I was already fluent in heartbreak. The way sobs rolled from my tongue was an all too familiar memory, so I handled it exceptionally well when she used and abused me. You taught me to recognise when I was not wanted, so I walked away.
See, at such a meagre age, you didn’t give me that option. You had me gazing lovingly at my very own father figure, just to be tossed far away. 

You’re lucky that my mother was fluent in heartbreak too. She’d had it harder than you could ever imagine, and she still played the hell out of the role of both parental figures, meanwhile you played none. All respect I had for you, I bestowed upon her. She has been my warm embrace, my knight in shining armour, my most frivolous laughter. She’s twice the father you could ever be. I thank you for giving her that strength.  
Right now, I’m in love again. I know you’d be disappointed to hear that. You couldn’t have cared less for me, yet you still wanted to chase boys away – left, right, and centre. Now, if I’m honest, it took me a long time to learn to love and to trust again, and I know that you’re to blame for that, but I’m happy now. You taught me how to look out for the warning signs, and for once in my life, I’m so god damn happy, I could hug you, and maybe even send this to you as a thank you note in calligraphic ink, on decorated paper, in an elegantly designed envelope – but I won’t.
Thank you for breaking my heart before anybody else could. I now know what to look out for, and in whom I should place my trust. 
And finally, I feel safe. 
Have a good life. 
I hope you regret losing me every day.


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