Happy 14th Birthday, Alia!

This photo of us on your 4th birthday, 10 years ago, is one my most cherished memories of you. We went on a father-daughter date together and had we had so much fun. You picked the restaurant and I enjoyed that day so much. I will never forget it. I love you, Alia ❤️

I don’t know how to start this post.

Do I tell you how much I miss you?

How my heart melts when I think of you?

How much I love you?

Not very “Happy Birthday” material, I guess. But it’s the truth. It’s my reality.

Every year, around your birthday, and your sister’s, my body trembles with the pain of missing you.

With the longing to hear your voice.

With the loss of the privilege to be in your life.

With the weight of this love that never stops.

With the fact that I would give anything to be able to tell you this in person.

My soul is shattered, aching from the distance between us.

You’ve just turned Fourteen. And we’ve now spent double the years apart than together. That truth is harrowing.

I carry so much guilt, even though I tried everything I could to stay close to you. And still, despite my best or worst effort, depending on who you ask, I’ve become a stranger to you.

As a father, I’m supposed to swallow this pain.

To put on a cheerful face and say “Happy Birthday” from far away, even when I’m not allowed to be a part of your day. Even when I don’t know what you like anymore.

Do you still play music?

Do you like PlayStation games?

I play a lot of Overwatch 2 (it’s basically the only game I play - and I’m damn good at it, by the way).

Oh, what I would give to play with you and Hayatt again. What I would give just to see you, and hug you, one more time.

I love you more than anything or anyone in this world.

And from the bottom of my broken heart, Happy Birthday, my love.

Dad