Daddy, I'm sorry.
I shouldn't have went out so late so often. I knew you would be waiting for me, no matter how late I come back. But all I felt was irritation, annoyed by how you always switched on the alarm system so it'd ring the second I opened the front door, making me go to your room in order to switch it back on. I feel like the smallest person in the world. I know you only wanted to make sure I was in one piece, to smell if I'd smoked or drank, to get a good night kiss. What did you ever do to deserve an insensitive moron like me?
I know I shouldn't have lied to you about who I'm going out with, and where I was going. I try to reason with myself that it is for your peace of mind, but it sounds hollow somehow. I never knew how horrible it is, the sense of not knowing whether your loved ones are all right. I've caused you so much pain and disappointment - can you ever trust me again?
I'm sorry for all the times I sneaked out before you even came home from work. I didn't want to have to face your questions, your reluctance to let me go. I was selfish, I know now. What could've crossed your mind, all those times you came home to find your daughter gone again, in a car you so generously provided her without any conditions, doing goodness-knows-what?
I cringe whenever I remember how you got chest pains the night che didn't come home. I never really understood how human you are, even though you're a big man, a strong individual in all things else. I try to continue believing that you're as strong as ever, to preserve that image of you since we were young, just so I could stop the flooding emotions whenever I hear your restless footsteps in your room, stopping soon after we crept up the stairs and got into our rooms. He's fine, I always coax myself. Maybe he had too much to eat for dinner, slight indigestion, that's all. I'm sorry daddy...
I still remember the dream I had when I was about six or seven. I think everyone in our family does. We were all in our old house, and there were a large herd of cows heading toward us! Big, determined cows... and then you stepped right in front of our gate, your arms outstretched, somehow stopping the cows from moving any further. I felt so safe. And so proud. I couldn't stop talking about it. I lost that feeling somewhere down the road. If only you could've stopped jerks and morons from hurting me. But I guess some things are inevitable.
So many times I could've shown you how important you are to me, but I didn't. Instead I dug under your arms and escaped when you tried to hug me, I didn't offer to accompany you during your evening walks, I got pissed coz you always insisted on watching old Chinese TV series instead of Super Sunday...
Many people have said I'm like you. From the way I walk and talk to the way I laugh like no worries and misery ever existed... all this they give credit to you. But I protested, I wanted to be like mommy, elegant, loving, capable mommy... but che is more like mommy, people insisted. You're like your daddy, you're just like your daddy...
The moments aren't plenty, but I cherish the times there is just the two of us, no mommy to take my attention away, no che to hog yours, no kor to make you all stern and strict... just you and me, in the car at night, on the way to get the late night newspaper. Just you and me, sitting at the front door curb, waiting for mommy to get ready so we could go for breakfast. You always smelt of baby powder and clean shampoo, so fresh, so ready to tackle the day and win the bread for us...
But then I look up to your face, your grey hair, your eyebags, and I know that time is precious, that you are precious, and vulnerable. I will never hurt you again daddy. Not if I can help it.
