I remember the night my mother came in and told me that she had found my father. At first I was mad at her. I figured she was just lying, (It was a common occurrence). But then she looked me dead in the face and spoke his name and suddenly my heart fell to my feet. Hit the floor so d*mn hard, I felt my toes go numb. I instantly felt the clamminess of my hands feel cool, and my voice shook a bit. I was excited. Happy. I had heard the name before. Only a few years back had she handed me her old marriage license. Told me I should have it, because the man whose name was on the line, was my fathers. I remember that night too. I read the name over and over again. Even inserted his last name where mine was. I remember the next day I felt hopeful. That, that sheet of paper held all my answers. I was young and naive. Even told my best friend how lucky I was to have gotten so close. I digress. I smiled and ran to the bathroom. My room of solitude where I knew no one could ever barge into. That bit of privacy was enough for me to cry a few tears, and calm down. The next thing I knew was that my mother was messaging him. Telling him that he may have a sixteen year old daughter. Looking in on who he was.. He had a family. A little boy. But gosh I thought he looked just like me. Blonde hair, big open eyes wanting to see everything he could, such an infectious smile.



Over the next few weeks I found that this man was wonderful. Smart, and happy. He loved to read and even got me into a series of books I have come to love so dearly. He wanted to know everything about me and I just the same about him. Not a single detail was left out. He was perfect. The father I had always imagined. Everyone kept telling me not to put so much heart into it though, but I didn't care it felt right. H*ll, it felt more right than most of the things that had happened in my life. Finally the man had gotten the money to do a simple DNA test. Finally we would know. Make it fact. He told me a small package would come in the mail, and I would simply have to follow the directions and send it back. We kept each other up to date on when whose package came, even when we did them and sent them in.



A couple of weeks passed. We hadn't really spoken over those few weeks. He was having tension at home, and I wasn't on the best terms with my mother regarding the entire situation. I got a call after dinner one night, and took the conversation out to the back patio. To the sound of his voice I smiled so greatly, but he sounded so sad. He told me, he had gotten the results.. And that they were negative. He wasn't my father. My voice cracked as I said goodbye to him, but I refused to seem so hurt over it. I didn't want to be the one to cry. But the second I heard the phone beep and disconnect the call, I sat down on the stairs and cried so hard. I remember shaking all over, and my mom coming out to check on me. She saw me crying and all I could relay to her was that the results didn't match, (Not to confuse, my mother and my mom are two very different individuals. Opposites I should say). I heard the slight raise of tone through the back door and my mother came out to my side. Again she looked me dead in the face and she apologized. I simply told her she had no right to speak to me. Went into the house. Went to my room. Went to sleep.



I was so close.



For a moment I thought people could change. I thought she could change. I was so wrong. An anger fueled me for a few days. I wanted nothing to do with my mother. I remember that the man and I had spoken on many different occasions over the years to this date. Many things have changed for him, as they have for myself. Some good things, some bad. But he's still the same perfect guy. I guess you can say my mother is no longer a part of my life. We speak sometimes, but never very long. However a few months back the same man had messaged me. over the years I told him of another man I had found, and tested. Luckily I didn't get to know him, just his wife mostly for she truly understood what I was searching for. But the same result was true. He wasn't my father either. I told him about college and my boyfriend. Little things about my life, but he made sure to add more to our conversation.



"Your mother and I were married. That still makes me your father. And I'm not entirely convinced of that test. They're supposed to be accurate, but there's always room for error."



I smiled. I even cried knowing there are still such truly good people in this world.



Every now and again, I pull out my birth certificate, and the old marriage license. I look at his name, and then to the blank labeled "unknown" on my birth certificate. Wish I had had both at the same time. Would have felt less tempted to keep looking.



I've read a lot of books and comics though. I'd like to think my dad is possibly a Greek God, like Percy's father, or a super secret assassin like Wesley's dad. Perhaps that's why I'll never meet him.



But that's just fiction...