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That’s what his name means.

I wanted to write him one last letter, to get everything off my chest before this year ended. I don’t want to enter the new year with last year’s junk on me.

But then I realized, it’s so pointless. What am I supposed to say? ‘Dear _____, I am still hurting and I would like to know why you did what you did.’? If he was ever going to explain himself, I imagine he would’ve done it by now.

I don’t expect him to ever say a word to me ever again. I don’t expect him to step foot back in church (and if he does, odds are it will be when I’m away at school). I don’t expect anything.

I’m tired of getting my hopes up. I’m tired of filling myself with false hope, just wishing and praying that maybe he’d tell me, “Happy birthday” or “Merry Christmas” or come back to church or randomly call me just to explain and tell me that he’s sorry.

It’s foolish. No matter what I do or say, he’s never coming back. I’m learning to accept that.


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