I’ve always believed that you would some how be proud of me when I grow older. You would dismiss all my flaws ,including the mistakes I had made, and you’d look above what I actually had accomplished yet somehow you found something to praise about me.
I’ve always looked up to you, in fact I still do. You were my inspiration; my energy to keep doing this, to keep writing. But now times have changed. Four years have passed and I still feel the same from the day you left. I feel heart broken. My family ask me things when I make mistakes; “Would he be proud of you?”. I know the answer. I know the answer when I cry about you. I know the answer when I’m angry at the fact that you are no longer apart of this planet.
The answer is: no. Why would you even be proud of me in the first place? I was a dumb kid back then. I made you laugh a lot because I’d have a silly grin on my face which brightened everyone’s day. Now I walk round and people look at me. They know I’ve changed. I felt different. I am different now because I feel as though you never believed in me.
You were never proud of what I had accomplished when you were alive.