I adored you, Daddy. 

You embody so many of the values that I cherish. We vibed Daddy. I thought we understood each other. 

I trusted you, Daddy. 

You were supposed to love me and keep me safe. You were supposed to protect me. But instead, you hurt me. You used me. You never wanted me. You pushed me away again and again. I only wanted to be close to you, but you pushed me away harder than anyone ever has. 

I just wanted to be your good girl Daddy. 

Your bestest girl ever. Not anyone else’s. Only yours. I wanted to give that to you. I longed for your training Daddy. But I hungered for your devotion most of all. I needed to feel that your dedication to me was as deep as my commitment to you. 

But you kept me filled up with doubts, Daddy. I only wanted to be your bestest girl. Your favorite toy. I tried so hard to express my love so that you would feel it. I wanted to show you that what I felt for you was real. I wanted you to know it as surely as you know yourself. I never wanted you to doubt. 

I tried so hard to please you, despite all the times you reminded me that I wasn’t good enough. I don’t know why I didn’t believe you. You told me over and over again that you didn’t want me, that no one wanted me. I can still hear your words ringing in my ears. I believe you now. 

I just wanted you to be proud of me Daddy. 

I wanted to learn how to love you in a way that made you feel loved. I wanted to be loyal to you. I wanted to show you that I understood who you are, and what you need. 

But how can I do any of these things if you don’t want me, Daddy? How can I hand over my heart to you? How can I make sacrifices to bring you pleasure at the expense of my pain?

What about what I need Daddy? 

Do I not deserve to feel loved by Daddy? Did anything I do mean anything to you? Was I special?

I was so scared Daddy.

Terrified that the words you stabbed me with so many times were true. You didn’t want me. No one wanted me. Men only want to use me. I’m a stupid bitch for letting them. 

I kept fighting you. 

Seeking reassurance that the words spewed in anger weren’t true. Hoping that this time I could breathe relief into my worried mind. Praying that you would finally see me and the gift I tried to be to you. Praying that inside you a switch would be flipped. Praying at any moment, you would take me into your arms, and tell me that it was time. I would know in that instant that not only did I belong to you, but that you belonged to me too. 

Every day I prayed. Every day I hoped. Every day I waited. Over time, little pieces of me died in resignation.

I was scared of Daddy.

I was scared that Daddy was really going to hurt me, and I’m not talking about the kind of pain I enjoy and can take. I was scared that Daddy was going to hurt me in the worst possible way. By leaving me. Abandoning me. Forgetting about me. Discarding me. I was scared that my heart would burst. I wanted it to stop swelling with love so that the painful pop wouldn’t hurt so bad that it kills me.

I needed Daddy to help me feel safe. 

So that I could let my love grow without being scared. It’s not easy to feel safe. It takes time for me to trust. I can’t figure out people’s intentions. I tried to be good enough Daddy. 

I desperately clung to you and to my fantasies of you, like a starving pet. I was so eager to please you, obey you, and shower you with affection and attention. 

But like a starving mutt that’s been kicked square in its ass, I must listen to the message the boot delivers. I must sneak away, with my tail between my legs, defeated. 

I have shared intimate places within me that only you have experienced. I will always hold you in kind regard, despite the suffering we inflicted on each other during our tragic love story.