On your birthday

14th February was your birthday. 

You should have been 64 today, but you stopped at 55 and I just can't imagine you at this age. 

There is a permanent gap and I feel like I'm running while you are standing still. 

I don't know if I want to celebrate, because what I have of you are mostly bad memories. 

I also can't forget how you fucked up each of my birthdays and that's why for many years I didn't like them. 

Sometimes I wish I could forget about you and how much you hurt me, but I can't erase 25 years of life. 

For someone who had everything, you threw it away and lived all your life in a self-distructive mode that hurt everyone around you. 

What I got used was the chaos and the uncertainty, you made that familiar. 

The only good memory I have with you is about the first movie I saw in cinema. 

There may be things I got from you like: your mother's name and the fact that I look like her when she was young, freedom, passion for maths and history and love for Greece. 

Even if you were mostly absent and I didn't feel you cared, I know that you were proud of me and you loved me in your way. 

Because of you I had to become stonger, independent and I learned that people leave one day and never return. 

This still scares me. 

I don't know if I miss you, because we never had a relationship, but sometimes I miss feeling loved.