Letter to a sperm donor.

  Maybe you're wondering why I haven't reached out to you before. In truth, I've started this letter probably twenty times but threw every draft away.
  On the surface, I'm sure you think this all started because you couldn't or wouldn't help me finance a car for school. Initially, I was mad because of that. It hurt me that something that was imperative to my education could mean nothing to you. I was mad because you gave your money freely to your girlfriend for christmas and to justin for his car but when it came to me, my needs just didn't cut it. But these feelings alone wouldn't justify my not speaking to you for years.
  You may not understand or appreciate how easy it is for me to erase someone from my life. It wasn't until after years of introspection that I began to understand it myself. I guess after being left by every man who I ever deemed important - pap, bub, dan - I just learned to move on and sometimes cut people off before they hurt me as a defense mechanism. With others, I never let them get close to me because in my mind, to be close to me would allow them access to hurt me like I'd been before. Like I said, you may not understand that, but I wanted to offer you some explanation as to why I am so guarded and quick to cast people - even important ones - aside.
   When you told me you couldn't help me finance a car for school, you probably thought my response was irrational - and it was. But my reaction was based on something deeper than your words. To me, you were basically saying, "I'll provide for my real kid, and even my girlfriend, but you're on your own." I know you didn't come out and say that but that's how I interpreted it because after 18 years of not getting child support and being raised with nothing, the one time I needed you, you turned me away.
   Anyways, enough of the explanations on my end. I am writing to you now for two reasons. One, I don't know what tomorrow brings and if you were to die today, this letter and my feelings would be on my heart for the rest of my life. Reading these words to your headstone wouldn't allow me to ever get your input, your explanation, or maybe some kind of acceptance that a part of me probably still craves. Reason two is that I want you to know that I made it, and did it mostly on my own. Also, I did a damn good job, if I say so myself, having no kids or drug problems to speak of. Because I knew I couldn't count on your for support, I worked full time the entire way through college. I even graduated as a registered nurse. I thought of inviting you but then decided not to, as you failed to assist in my success in any way.
  So, in closing, in a small way, I want to thank you. Even if all you did was show me how to rely on no one but myself, the family that raised me, and God, you made me a stronger woman.