Meet Steve.

April 17, 2017

Dear Steve,

 

It has taken me almost twenty years to write this, but I forgive you. I forgive us. And most importantly I forgive myself. 

 

When we had our son, we were so young and as I look back, I realize we never really tried to make it work. We were focused on the wrong things. I remember asking you why you disappeared and you said because I didn’t want to make it work with you. Honestly, I didn’t know you wanted us to be a family. 

 

After you came back into our lives, I was VERY skeptical of your motives because you had been gone for so long. Too long in my eyes, but now I see it was necessary for you to find yourself and grow up. We both needed the space. The space allowed us to move about in our separate worlds and prepare for the relationship we have now.

 

I haven’t told you this before, but I hoped you wouldn’t ever come back. I kept the same number and planned to change it when K turned 18. I figured you would have had other children by then and would have moved on. I am glad this didn’t happen. I am glad you called me on his thirtieth birthday and insisted on being in his life. I am glad you didn’t stop trying when I would say unkind things to you. I am glad you proved me wrong. Boy, am I glad.  

 

K is blessed to have two fathers who adore him. Thank you for loving Michael the way you do. I can't imagine the humility it took to recognize his role as “dad” in K’s life. Each year you text him “Happy Father’s Day” and you thank him for raising K. You don't have to thank him anymore. He knows you are grateful. 

 

So, this letter is the last time I will bring up the past. It is the last time either of us will say we are sorry. ( I am truly sorry.) It is the last time we will dwell on what could have been and now look forward to what is.

 

I know you are probably wondering why I am writing this letter, but I felt it was necessary to tell our story so people can see there is light even in the dark, but sometimes you have to search for it.   

 

Here’s to the next twenty years.

 

xo,

B

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by Brinn From Burbank