Dear Father,

You probably have no idea I exist. I am told that you raped my mother, and I am the aftermath of the rape. I can not speak for my mother, but I have forgiven you for your actions. In fact, I open my heart and soul to you. Wherever you are in this world, that is, if you are still alive, I would like to meet you. I would like to get to know you, and I hope that you would like to know me as well.

I have reached the point in life where I don’t necessarily need you, but still, it would be pleasant to meet you. Even if you are not the fairy tale, story book father that every little girl deserves, I still want to know you. Because at this very moment in time, I am lost. There is a large, deep hole in my very being that eats at me day after day. A feel it’s emptiness, and know that it exists because of you. Or rather, the lack of you.

A part of me is missing, the puzzle is incomplete. And there is nothing I can do about it. There’s nothing anyone can do about it. I don’t even know your name.

I am writing this letter as a form of prayer. Hopefully, from my mouth to God’s ear. So that, by some magnificent miracle, you should come across it and become compelled to know your daughter. Because whether you know it or not, I exist. I am here, I am a part of you. But how do I know when to open the door, if you don’t ring the doorbell?

Your Daughter.