A/N. I want to come right out and apologize for the angst in this. It's two days before Christmas but I've been up since 7am and I've felt so depressed all day. I'm just trying to work through some things and this story happened. It's inspired by Boyce Avenue's Broken Angel. Please listen to it when you get the chance. It's beautiful and perfect for the Logan I have created in my stories. Unfortunately, I can also relate to it in a way. Anyway, I'm sorry. I don't own anything.
I was only six when Mom died but I remember what you were like when she was still alive. You were so much different than you are now. You smiled and laughed. You were happy. But most importantly, you were my dad.
It's been ten years since Mom died. When are you going to snap out of it? Are you ever going to snap out of it? Or are you just going to keep hiding away in your shell because you're too afraid of getting hurt? What about me? Don't I matter? Doesn't our relationship matter? I miss Mom too. I still love you though so why can't you love me? I'm still here. It makes me wonder if you ever loved me in the first place.
What did I do wrong? I was a little kid and Mom took me shopping. It wasn't my fault that it started raining so hard on our way home. It wasn't my fault that we got hit. It wasn't anyone's fault. It was an accident. I was six and I missed my mom. You were there for me but only for a little while. Then you left.
Of course you didn't really leave. You didn't move out or abandon me. Not literally. But you might as well have. What's the difference? My friends' parents still raised me more than you ever did. Sure, you provided me with a home to live in and food to eat and clothes on my back. But it was Kendall's and Carlos' and James' moms and dads that cared about me. You only took care of me because it was your duty.
Is that all I am to you? An obligation that you got stuck with when Mom died? I bet you never really wanted me. If you did want me then we would have been in another place than the one we are in now. We might have been happy or at least close to it.
Here's why I think you don't want me. I tried everything to get you to notice me. I went out for the hockey team because it's what kids in Minnesota do. I was just as surprised as anyone when I was actually good at it. Who would have thought? But even then you kept working long hours at the law office. You never once made it to one of my games in all the years I played. You didn't even come to the playoffs or to the awards ceremonies that year I was the team's MVP. You were too busy for me. Your own son.
So I thought maybe that you wanted me to be more like you. I thought it was a good thing that I was naturally brilliant. You're a lawyer and I decided that I would be a doctor and that would make you proud. So instead of goofing of like my friends I paid close attention in school. I listened to every single word that every single teacher said and it paid off because I always got straight A's. Teachers loved having me as a student. But none of that mattered because you didn't care. All of those science fairs and spelling bees that I participated in and almost always won. You never came. Hockey is one thing but school is another. Education is what really matters in life. But you never celebrated with me.
The worst thing is, everyone else did. I think Kendall and James and Carlos were more excited than I was when I won MVP. They cheered so loud that day that I almost forgot that you didn't show up. Then they spent the rest of the day calling me names like King Hockey and Champ of the Rink. They cared. And their parents too. Every time I scored a goal or won a competition at school, they cheered for me like I was their own son. I wish I was.
Christmas is a couple days away. I want to celebrated it this year, Dad. I don't mean with presents though. I saw that you got something for me but I know it's only because you feel like you have to. Of course I got you something, but not because I have to. I got it for you because I love you.
You know what I want for Christmas? I want my dad back. The one I had when I was a little boy. I want you to come to the rink with me and play hockey with me the way Kendall's dad does. I want you to wrestle with me like Carlos' dad does. I want you to do everything you possibly can to make sure I reach my dreams like James' dad does. I want you to notice me. I want to talk with you like father and son and not two strangers who happen to live in the same house. I want you to see me and not look through me.
I don't just want you to do these things though. I need you. Why can't you be there for me? I feel so worthless because you're constantly pushing me away. I feel like I'm not worthy of your time. I've done everything I possibly can to get you back and it's done nothing. As much as I try to convince myself that it's not fault, I have doubts. I just don't know what else to do.
Sometimes I cry at night. But only when no one can hear me. I never let anyone see how much it really hurts me that you ignore me. Kendall and James and Carlos are the best friends in the world and their families are all so amazing. It confuses me, my relationship with them. Because I don't know if I deserve them. I mean, if you hate me so much then why do they bother? Why do they care? Why do they love me? Maybe it's you I don't deserve. I don't know.
I'm so grateful for them. I don't know where I'd be if I didn't have my best friends. Sometimes I want to get your attention even if it's not in a good way. Would you care if I did something crazy or reckless? Dangerous? Would you miss me if I. . . disappeared? I guess it could be called an act of desperation if I overdosed or slit my wrists. But would it work then? Would you notice me then? The only reason I haven't done any of these things is because I believe my friends really do care for me and I don't want to hurt them. That's also why I don't show my weakness in front of them. Because they've always been there for me and I'm afraid they might think that I'm ungrateful.
Why are you always so busy? Why don't you ever take the time to hang out with me or ask me how my day went? Is it so wrong that I want you to be proud of me? Is it selfish of me to want to hear praise from you? I just want to know that you like me because I feel like our relationship is one-sided.
I'm getting tired of the charade though. I don't know how much longer I can keep it up. I find my desire to become a doctor lessening. I feel my love of hockey going away. I've always had my friends to encourage me but that's not what I need sometimes. Sometimes I need to hear it from you. And I never do. I'm tired of trying. I'm tired of putting so much work into something only to have everyone but you tell me that I did a good job.
There are days when my heart literally aches because of what I don't have. All of my friends have dads who care about them and love them and are proud of them. Even though Kendall's parents got divorced, Mr. Knight still cares. There are nights that I lay awake and dream up things to say to you the next morning. But then I chicken out because I'm afraid of total and complete rejection. So I keep up the act that everything is okay and I'm fine with us being the way we are.
But I'm not okay, Dad. I need you. I need you to see me. I need you to be there for me when I need you. You never are. I need advice and I either have to figure it out on my own or talk to my friends' parents. I know they don't mind but it's embarrassing that I can't talk to you the way I talk to them. I really hate it when they feel sorry for me.
I don't know what to say anymore. All I've done is ramble on and on about myself. I'm stupid and selfish and worthless. I'm throwing a pity party right now with this letter that you'd never read even if I gave it to you. You'd just say that you'd get to it later and then forget about it. I always come second to everything else in your work.
I give up. You win. We can stay where we are right now. Like I said, I'm tired of trying. I'm tired of you putting me off. I'm tired of being ignored. I'm tired of being second. I'm stupid to think that things will ever change so I'll just stop hoping that things will be okay. There are people who are way worse off than I am. I should be grateful.
I am grateful. But I'm grateful for Kendall and James and Carlos. I'm not grateful for you. I have no reason to be grateful for you. I suppose to could be glad that you don't neglect or abuse me. But your silence is it's own abuse. You've been shutting me out for ten years and I'm done.
I'm sorry I couldn't be a better son. I have no idea what I could possible do to be a better person but maybe I did g wrong somewhere. It's hard to know what to believe. I guess I'll be here until I'm old enough to move out. Until then you'll just have to deal with having me in your house. I'll try to make it as painless as possible. I'll try to stay out of your way. I promise.
All I want for Christmas or forever is you. I want my dad back. I guess sometimes we don't get what we want no matter how much we want it.
Your son, Logan.
Logan sighed and wiped his sleeve across his eyes, drying his face of the tears that longed to fall freely. He was done. He was done crying over the father he had and the father he wanted. He was done with everything. He set the pen aside and straightened the papers so that they lines up with one another. Then he ran his eyes over the words.
His neat, precise handwriting stood out clearly. Everything he had wanted to say to his dad was right there on the paper in black and white. Absolute honesty. He had never been so brutally honest before. The truth hurt though.
The front door opened. His father was home. Logan stood up from the desk chair in his bedroom and crossed the floor. He walked out into the empty hallway. His dad was home but the house was still empty. He didn't have a home. He had a house. A house was not a home without a heart. Logan's heart was broken and he didn't know how to fix it anymore.
He walked quietly into what some people would call the family room. He called it the green room because he didn't have a family to fill it up with. The walls were a nice forest green so he named it what it was. Inside the large room, the fire he had built earlier was blazing. The heart warmed his cold body and he smiled just slightly.
Then he held the pages over the flame and one by one he dropped them onto the burning wood. He watched as they instantly ignited and made the flames leap even higher. He watched the edges turn brown and then black. And then he watched the papers crumble to pieces representing all that was left of him.
A/N. Yeah. Don't forget to look up 'Broken Angel'. I hope I could do it some justice with this story. A review would also mean a lot. If you liked it anyway. I might turn it into a two-shot and make a happier ending. We'll see how I feel later on. I feel horrible for saying this now because this was just a pity party but, Merry Christmas. I truly hope you all have a wonderful time with family and friends this weekend. Thanks so much for taking the time to read.