Gone

Gone

I wake up happy, ready to go. At the train station, we patiently wait for hours and hours for you to show up. I know my mom doesn't like seeing your face. We’re waiting for you because you are always late. I never want to leave the station until I am in your arms, but I guess that won't happen. Three hours pass and the train station closes. You never show up. I want to see your bright smile and your goofy face. I want to see what hat you are wearing today. But I guess you never left your place. You get me so excited but you don't show up. I want to go home and cry myself into sleep.

Sick sickle cell has ruined another good thing once again, mad that I can't see you today, I'm sorry father that I have disappointed you. I know you want to see me but I’m sick - fever high and my spirits low. You couldn't see me last week or this week either. I know you are mad, but we'll try again next week.

Next week comes and you’re not responding. Why do you not want to see me? Is it about last week? Are you mad at my mom? I know that it's not my fault, but it sure does feel like it. You constantly tell me that it's not, but I still think it is. When the phone rings, I’m filled with joy, but then my hopes get destroyed. Nothing new comes out of your mouth. “I'm sorry I can't come today, I have other things to do.” Angry is the only emotion I feel. You seemed hyped for this, but now I guess you’re not. This happens a lot. One week I'm going, then at the last second, I’m not.

Finally, nothing can stop me. I’m going to see you. I'm ready and I hope you are too. I never thought you would affect me so badly. No call - not a message, not a voicemail, nothing. I feel hurt that you stopped showing up. And now I’m living my best life without you. I'm growing up to be an amazing teenager and soon I’m going to be an even more amazing adult. Without you.

Years pass, and one October, when our house is pretty heated - the whole house filled with tension, I try my best to stay in my lane. A car pulls up and someone gets out of the SUV and puts a note on my mom’s car. It reads: “Call me!” And there’s a phone number. My mom confronts you. “You have been gone for almost 10 years and this is how you contact her! My number and email haven't changed and neither has my address.” Later, I ask my mom where the note went and she says that she's misplaced it. The note is still lost and I am kind of sad but happy at the same time.