[ WP ] Make me love you , make me hate you , then make me mourn your passing .

`` This is a rather strange feeling, I must confess. I never knew you. I did n't even know you existed until a week ago, and since then I have felt nothing but guilt. 
 
 It has been almost exactly seven days since I received a phone call from an old friend from high school. Well. An old girl friend. I loved her for the longest time. I hated her for a long time too. After dating for nearly three years, she simply disappeared. Her family moved, she was gone. She never told me why. I suppose you would be the reason for that. 
 
 You were a cute kid. She sent me some of the baby pictures. You looked so happy. But I fear that the sadness I saw growing with every picture, as you got older and older is n't just in my head. It's real, and I fear that I am the cause. Or rather the lack of me. I do n't know why I'm writing this letter. I do n't know you, you do n't know me. I am just a stranger, perhaps someone you even hate. 
 
 But, I do n't think I can accept that. I ca n't accept you hating me. I was terrified as the call grew on, and everything fit into place. I was angry with her for keeping you a secret. I was terrified that I would have to grow up. I was horrified that I had n't tried harder to find her. To find you. 
 
 As I thought though, it made sense. I was n't mature enough to be a father then. I do n't think I could have even faced it. I probably would have simply run away then. I do n't think I'm even mature enough now. So I've made a decision, after much debate. I wo n't see you. I'll never see you except in these photographs. You'll never see me, except in the stillness of a picture. 
 
 I want you to understand that this my decision. Not your mother's.'' 
 
 That was it. That was all the letter said. Perhaps more important than what it said, was what was left out. I sighed, and leaned back into the bed, wincing at the tired ache of my body. Radiation treatment is awful. I had insisted on it, but the doctor had told me it probably would n't do help. The cancer was too developed to be cured. I was going to die. And I did n't want you to lose a father twice.
