I locked myself in the memories between me and you. Standing in front of the blurry glass looking at the grey sky, rainy days.

In this right moment, I just realized my mistake for not being there, for you my love.

In this weather. In this temperature, in this passing wind. I will, remember this kind of days.

Always.

I hated you, to begin with because you’re the reason why my wife died.

You lived and grew up without love, from me. 

“Daddy!”, I groaned whenever the little voice greeted me when I’m home. That little feet of her, running towards me and hug my legs with her tiny hands.

I harshly pushed her small and petite hands away from my legs before walking away.

I should have bend down and hugs her and says, “Baby, I’m home.”.

But I didn’t.

“Daddy, happy birthday!”, that soft and adorable giggle annoys me. She showed me her drawing, of a family. There’s me, her and the nanny. It looks cheerful but it’s actually wasn’t.

I took it away from her before trashing it into the dustbin.

I should have keep that drawing and framed it so I can proudly showed to everyone that my baby can draw.

But I didn’t.

“Daddy, Merry Christmas!”, she cheerfully said before placing a very small red box under the Christmas tree.

I took the box but never open it. M