Guess what?
I am no longer sad about
my dad leaving.
Know why?
Because I am mad.
I turned his stupid picture
facedown in my sock drawer.
I will not take his stupid phone calls.
He just told me in his stupid e-mail
that he is so sorry about everything.
He said that when I grow up
I will understand how a person
can become “overwhelmed,”
how a person might need
a fresh start.
How he loves me.
That I’m still his Bindi-boop.
His Bindi-boop my butt.
I didn’t hit “Reply.”
I won’t.
Ever.