I remember playing outside alone with a Bratz doll, occasionally looking in the distance,

hoping to see my dad walking to the house holding a big teddy bear.

I loved those, even at 25.

Their fur kitten-soft smile is like an offered cup of coffee on a cold morning. A gesture that remains unhindered even on a bad day.

A companion with eyes that are warm and sparkle in their lovingness.

He didn’t come. He never did.

His absence was a void that echoed in my heart,

a constant reminder of his neglect.

My mind has always formed pictures of things that are exciting and not yet experienced.

I did it this time, too.

I imagined that when I called ‘dad’ in high school, asking him for a phone, he would, without a doubt, offer to buy my love.

Instead, he disregarded my attempt to buy his.

That probably describes why I search in the distance for the security of a man,

And why breadcrumbs seem enough.

It’s been a few years since he pitched up at the house carrying a bag of KFC.

I ran to the gate as fast as I could, my mom sitting inside as if anticipating I’d come running back.

I did.

He stood there with his arms dangling,

And not with anticipation.

Instead, in an attempt to get through the night as fast as he could.

His attempts to buy my love with material possessions only deepened my longing for genuine affection,

leaving me trapped in a cycle of unfulfilled expectations.

I’m 18, and this time it’s different.

We’re in a courtroom,

the air heavy with anticipation and tension.

I remember the world stopping when the judge announced the verdict. This moment shattered my illusions and forced me to confront the harsh reality of my father’s actions.

Despite the upheaval, I found strength in what I most value in life:

My mother, sister, and my Bratz doll,

And,

my imagination.

Even though I’ll occasionally yearn for love,

I know it surrounds me wherever I go.

Through people,

meaningful objects,

my immagination,

and through words.

And I’ll feel it for a lifetime.