I don’t really know how to start this. I don’t know if anyone will truly understand me. I just know there’s something trapped inside my chest, and if I don’t let it out, I feel like I’m going to completely fall apart.
I had a normal life. I had plans. I had dreams. I wanted to go to college, to build something with my life, to become someone. And more than anything, I wanted to be like my dad. I admired him. To me, he was strong. He was capable. He was the kind of man I wanted to become one day.
And then one day… he was gone.
There was no goodbye. No explanation. No last conversation. Just silence. A silence that hurts more than any scream. My dad took his own life and left me with questions no one can answer.
Why didn’t you talk to me?
Why didn’t you tell me you were struggling?
Why didn’t you trust me?
Why didn’t you fight a little longer?
People say he had problems. Money issues. Marriage problems. Pressure. But that doesn’t comfort me. Because I was there. I loved him. I admired him. And still, he chose to leave.
From that day on, something inside me broke.
There are moments when I feel anger. Anger because he left me. Because he chose to go instead of staying and fighting for us. Other moments, I feel guilt. I wonder if I could have done something differently, if I missed a sign, if I failed as a son.
And there are days… when I don’t want to get out of bed. Days when nothing makes sense. Days when that same dangerous thought crosses my mind: “What if I just stop?”
That’s the part that scares me the most to say out loud.
Because no one talks about this. No one talks about what comes after. The trauma. The sleepless nights. The mind that won’t quiet down. Life moving on while you stay frozen.
People tell me I have to keep going. That I have my whole life ahead of me. That this isn’t the end of the world. But… how do you move forward when the person who taught you how to live chose to give up?
Part of me wants to forgive him. But another part of me doesn’t understand how to forgive someone who didn’t say goodbye. How do you forgive someone who left without thinking about the hole they would leave behind?
So here I am. Lost. Confused. Tired. With half a faith. With broken hope. With a pain you can’t see, but that weighs on me every single day.
If I’m honest, there are moments when I feel like without God, I am nothing. Because when I try to carry this alone, I sink. When I try to be strong on my own, I break. When I think I can handle it all, I realize I can’t handle any of it.
I’ve come to understand something, even though it hurts: my dad didn’t leave because he didn’t love me. He left because he lost hope. Because pain won the battle. That doesn’t make him a monster, but it doesn’t make it hurt any less.
What I do know is this: I don’t want to end the same way. I don’t want my story to finish like his. I don’t want to pass this pain on to someone else. I don’t want my absence to be the memory that marks the life of someone who loves me.
Today, all I can say is this: I need help. I need God. I need someone to tell me that there is still an opportunity. That my life wasn’t defined by this tragedy. That my dreams didn’t die with him. That my future isn’t condemned by his decision.
I’m slowly learning that Christ doesn’t ask me to be strong. He asks me to be honest. To come broken. To come tired. To come without answers. Because He doesn’t leave. Because He stays. Because He doesn’t abandon me when I need Him most.
“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted.”
If you’re reading this and you see yourself in my words, please don’t walk alone. Don’t stay silent. Don’t give up. Your life is worth more than this pain. Your presence matters more than you realize. Even if you can’t see it today, there is still hope.
I’ll leave you with this reflection from the deepest part of my heart: pain does not have the final word. Absence does not define who you are. And without Christ, we are nothing… but with Him, even what is broken can begin to heal.
I invite you to join me in this prayer.
Lord, here I am—broken, confused, exhausted. I don’t understand many things, but today I choose not to give up. Take this pain I don’t know how to carry, these questions with no answers, this heart that feels empty. Hold my life when I have no strength left, and remind me that there is still an opportunity for me. Amen.
Somos Cristianos, connecting hearts with Christ.
