Cowgirls Don't Cry

Dear Daddy,

It's your birthday in two weeks, you know what that means. Looking back every year this does get a little bit easier but it never feels that way when these anniversaries come around. I've found myself wishing I could call you and hear you say you love me, tell me I'm your whole world a lot lately. Some days I wish I could just go over to your house at the end of the day and be reminded what it feels like to be able to trust somebody so completely, love somebody so unabashedly and unconditionally and to know that in that person's eyes you can do no wrong.

I want to start riding again, I know you probably wish I had gotten back up on the steel horse sooner but I just couldn't do it. I needed to know that I wouldn't be too afraid and give up if I fell. You never wanted me to be the kind of woman that was afraid of failure or pain or that couldn't just brush it off and try again. I could always put on a brave face for you, I always knew how to hold it together. Some days I just don't know how to any more. I hope you're not disappointed.

Your birthday is on my day off again this year. I don't know if it's better or worse this way. Sometimes I think it might be better to have something to distract me but sometimes I don't think there's anyway I could focus at all. I'll probably drive out to the coast, like every year. Sometimes I wish I smoked just because sitting out at the beach and watching the sunset high as kite seems like a more fitting way to remember you than anything. Maybe I'll stop somewhere and have a Captain Morgan's and coke in your honor. Though seriously, Daddy, how did you drink that all that time? It's like drinking liquid candy. Will you be offended if I have whiskey instead?

Why'd you have to make me such a daddy's girl? This would all be so much easier if you hadn't. You know how much I hate crying.

Love love love,

Your Daughter.