It was the day before Thanksgiving and I was so excited. Who wouldn’t be? Delicious food and a whole day of family time? Of course I was excited. I had been having a hard time with my biological father, whom I hadn’t seen in over eleven years. I was struggling with the fact that he wasn’t there for me. I have a step-dad who was there since my real dad left but it was never the same after I found out he wasn’t my real dad. I called him daddy and I call him dad still but it’s not the same, it never would be. My mom and I were in the kitchen preparing the stuffing and turkey when I decided to check my Facebook. Yes, I had gotten one months before and was still addicted. To my surprise, I had a new friend request. Strange when I had sent a request to everyone I knew. I clicked on the friendly icon and there it was. A picture on my real dad. Sure, I had searched his name on Facebook before but I never thought that I would be getting a friend request from him. I can’t even describe the feelings I had because I don’t know. I was scared, shocked, happy, sad and all from this little friend request. Thoughts raced back and forth through my mind. Should I tell my mom? She hadn’t seen him since he left. Would she be mad? Should I conform or decline? I was terrified. But at the same time ecstatic. I was so happy that he wanted to be friends. I was happy that he wanted to know me. Or did he? I spent so much time thinking that he was just doing this to make my life terrible. I didn’t know what to do so I slept on it.

When I woke up, I raced to the computer and typed in those familiar letters and sure enough, there it was. It wasn’t a dream. My father, the one who left more than a decade before, sent me a friend request on the most familiar social networking site I know. It was hilarious. I laughed at the thought. I sat down and thought some more. And more. And more. I stared at his picture. He didn’t look anything like from the baby pictures I had. In an impulse, I clicked confirm. I hurried to his page and scoured through his pictures, music, movies, and sports interests just to try to get to know what he was like. I got sad and went back to my page. He had a daughter. Named Abby, who looked just like me when I was little. I knew he had kids but I guess it never sunk in that he had a life. He had kids who he cared about. He had friends, interests, hobbies that I never knew about, never thought about and never would. I un-friended him. I didn’t want to mess his life up. He didn’t need me and I didn’t need him. I told my mom and she said she’d love me no matter what. And I cried. I cried for the fact that I would never know him. I cried for the fact that I didn’t want to know him.

Soon after my whole “breakdown” I received a text message from an unknown number. Could it be? Yes. It was him. He asked if he could call me. I said no. He replied one last time saying that I could call him if I wanted to and Happy Thanksgiving. I said you too. It’s two days after Thanksgiving and I still haven’t called him. I don’t think I ever will. I haven’t been too happy with my life and I thought that if I had a dad who paid attention to me, it would get better. That’s not true at all. My step-dad loves me. Even if he shows it in odd ways or doesn’t show it at all. I know that he loves me. I know this, because he’s here. Guess who’s not.