Cecilio

My name is Carmen Evelin Gomez Garcia 
I was born October 30th 2008 
Yes i'm sorry I know you know 
But does he?
 Is he aware of how old I am 
Does he realize 
I turn 18 next year 
Does he even see how badly I want to hug him 
Does he know how badly I want to stop greeting him with a hand shake 
Because everytime I go in for a hug 
I get stopped by a knife to my heart 
Knowing i'll never be able to hug him “Hola” “como estas” “bien” 
Out of his whole vocabulary
Those are the only 4 words I hear from him every 2 months or so and sometimes I can't help but wish it was from his heart every month or every week

When I grasp onto the thought that I can't even get another word, not even a small 4 letter word that would mean the world to a small 4 year old
That wonders why her dad won't 
Communicate with her 
Now No wonder I can't help but feel communication is most important in every relationship you tell me “The phone works both ways” 
But he has never not once asked for his own daughters phone number 
When I was little I thought he'd be a better father but seeing how he is now 
I know I'll never get the father I desire him to be

Sometimes I hear the phone talking to me saying 
“Just quit” or “shut up” 
Knowing I try to talk to you 
But get hung up on every single time I'm not sad though 
I have the grandpa I need you to be 
But that's not the same 
Sometimes what twists the knife more in my heart is seeing my sister with her dad going out for ice cream or even just a simple hug she gets every time she gets picked up from school 
Because everytime I catch a glimpse of them 
I think to myself how my life COULD'VE been 
Without beer 
Without drugs 
Without generational mental illnesses 
Without anger

Because everytime I look at them 
I don't see him and I 
I see you and I 
Because I know you were more of a father than he was 
Because everytime I needed something you would get it for me 
And it might've been because you never had a daughter of your own but that really meant the world to me 
You were there 
Not him

You as my grandpa 
While he was a total ghost 
And though God mightve had this plan for me I ask why 
Why couldn't he give me gold, a goat 
Gum Grapes or a Guitar at least 
Something id like Something id enjoy from time to time 
Because all I can think is how he is 
And compare with how you are 
Because no matter what 
“The phone works both ways” 
So I would like to try I would like to try to be to him what a drugs were to him because

I know i'm a bee to him 
I can sting but it'll pass because the pain to him is just a little shot 
Yet after I sting him Ill be dying of anguish 
Waiting for a hand to help me up 
But so many people hate bees that they walk right by me 
Except you 
You helped me up and helped me keep my head 
Because I had already stung my victim 
But I had done no damage whats so ever

And no closer 
To getting a reaction out of him 
Any other reaction at all other than that boring face that looks like he'd rather be someplace else than here 
Sometimes I try to talk to little me knowing I can't do anything to help her with her emotions that she'll feel 
But I can't help but go through my memories on my phone knowing it shouldn't have started nor ended like this

--Carmen G., 6th-8th  Grade