Never Sent That Text

I want to laugh at this feeling.

I really haven’t missed you all that much.

“When r u going 2 come over?”
“I don’t know, Dad.”

That was if I replied at all.

How do you convince yourself to like somebody?
Well, I guess you don’t really have to.
You don’t even really have to love them.

I wanted to like him.
But he made it really hard.
NASCAR and too much garlic—it wasn’t even fresh.
And Giada and Paula and the Barefoot Contessa.

He used the word “fag,”
More than too much.

There were a few times I remember I didn’t hate him.

“Dad, my friend and I smoked weed yesterday.”
“Did you like it?”
“I did.”

“Don’t go too fast, okay, Daddy?”
“HayDawn, don’t worry.”

“Dad, can I drive?”
“Let’s find an empty parking lot.”

And now I kind of like Billy Joel. Isn’t that strange?
Dad’s ringtone, ironically enough “Only the Good Die Young,” came on while I took a shower today.

Danica Patrick was on Chopped last night and all I wanted to do was text my dad.

So, yeah. It’s too bad you missed it.

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