This was written as if I was still the same little girl when my dad died. So, I'm sorry if it's a little bit childish. It's short and random. I don't know about it.

Hello, Daddy. I love you.

Faded Soulfire


Daddy's still gone—he's gone.

Mommy doesn't cry anymore, God. She just replaced my daddy, and now she doesn't talk about him anymore. We don't get to visit him like we were promised, and I want you to give him a message for me, God.

Can you do that? Can you tell my daddy that I love him and miss? Will you give him a big bear hug and huge smacker for me? Please, God. I don't want daddy to stop loving me because I don't think about him everyday. He'll love me less if I forget. Don't let me forget.


I don't think I want to grow up, or get married, or fall in love. I don't have a daddy to walk me down the isle. I don't have a daddy to lecture my boyfriends before we go out on a date to make sure that they treat me right.

Oh daddy. No one treats me like you do. No one calls me their little rabbit. Just you. It was just for me, daddy. I am your little rabbit. Don't forget that I still remember you. And I'm sorry that I forget what your face looks like sometimes. Mommy doesn't know that I go through her closets, grab the photo albums on the top shelf, and look at pictures. Oh daddy. There aren't many of you.

I think mommy still hurts, daddy. She threw away everything that was yours. I think I yelled at her, daddy. I'm sorry.

God, can you please tell daddy that I'm being a good girl? Will you tell him that I think about him all the time? Can you tell that I'm okay. Can you send him all my love and maybe a picture too?

Oh God. Are you done borrowing my daddy yet? If so, will you please share? I miss him and love him so much.