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A Prodigal Daughter’s Letter


Dear Father,

I honestly feel like shit. I don’t think someone can love a person who never stops screwing up… intentionally. I am such a rebel. I am such a hypocrite. I am incapacitated, and all those stupid metaphors of having no freedom from myself. I am hurt. I am lonely. I am empty. My pride will never admit that I am broken and falling apart. I feel like my life doesn’t mean anything to anyone. I am insecure and insignificant. And now I don’t think I can ever be where I want to be.

If I cry out to you and knock my pride out of the way, I will only lie that I can change, ’cause I don’t think I can. And I will be back to this place again, with my barriers so much worse. I don’t want to hope and fool myself again. I am so tired of my weak self. I am so tired of having to lie to you.

But if I keep silent, my life will continue to break and fall apart. I will continue to be meaningless. I won’t have the right to talk about you anymore, and my soul will continue to be thirsty. And there will be endless nights of having to go to sleep feeling empty. I will have no passion and compassion. I will rely solely on initiative and willpower, which could be good. And I will forever feel insignificant and insecure.

My faith is dead. My faith is in so many other things which makes grace nonexistent in my life. I don’t believe that kind of grace will ever reach me, and stay. I might as well say goodbye to you, ’cause I can continue to try, but I will only be frustrated. Both roads lead me there, anyway. I can deny you, but I believe that you will never go away, so now I can’t say you’re the one that got away. But this is my choice, and I know I will never be happy with it. My broken heart might someday say, “You’re all I needed all this time,” but my pride will not admit that I was wrong. And even if you are all I needed, my pride will say you wouldn’t have loved me anyway.

My pride is shitty. I am shitty. The truth is I can’t go on without you, and it makes no sense to even choose with the choices I’m given. So strip me of my pride, and humble me down however you want, whatever it takes. They say that you will break me, and it will hurt. But I don’t care as long as I end up with you.

‘Cause you have shown me your heart, and I have seen who you really are. They say that I can not see the truth and still stay the same. I don’t know because I don’t trust myself. So here I am again at your feet. I know I’ve blown my chances, but I think there will never be a time that not even the smallest part of me believes that you are who you say you are.

Take this humility that’s still left of me. Take all the broken pieces if you can find them. And save me. Save me from myself.

Your daughter,

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