u/BothProtection5914

From june 12-31. Dm with details

I don’t think I ever really got to be close to my dad.

Growing up, we didn’t get along much. It was always small things—going out, friends, trips… he would say no, I would get angry, and it would turn into an argument. We didn’t talk much, and when we did, it never felt easy. I thought this was just how it is between fathers and sons.

When I left home and moved to Bangalore, something changed in me. For the first time, I started missing my family… missing him too. Being away made me realize things I didn’t see before. But every time I came back home, it was the same again. We would argue, stop talking, keep distance.

Still, I thought… one day it will get better.

Then I moved to Italy for higher studies. That time was not easy. We didn’t have much money, and my dad struggled a lot to make it happen for me. Arranging money, loans, visa problems… even after a rejection, he didn’t give up. He didn’t say much, but he did everything he could. I don’t think I thanked him properly for that.

I came here with a dream. Not just for me, but for him. I wanted to work, earn well, support him, help him retire. I wanted to make his life easier. And more than that… I just wanted us to finally be close. I used to imagine simple things—sitting together, talking normally, going on a trip, having a drink together, laughing. Things we never really did.

I really believed I had time.

But everything changed so fast. His illness, the treatments, the money problems… it all happened at once. I was here, working, trying to support as much as I could. I wanted to come, but I also had responsibilities here. I kept thinking I’ll go soon… I’ll see him soon.

The day I finally took a flight… he was already gone.

I didn’t even get to see him one last time.

Now I’m 29. Life goes on. I take care of my family. I help my brother. I do everything I’m supposed to do. Everyone thinks I’m strong, that I’m doing well.

But they don’t see this part of me.

Every day, I miss my dad. Some days I’m okay, but some days I just break down when I’m alone. I don’t talk about it to anyone. I don’t even know how to.

I just wish I had one more chance.

To sit with him. To talk without fighting. To laugh with him. To go somewhere together. Even something simple… just having a drink and talking like friends.

I never told him how much I loved him.

And now, I live with that every day.