In preschool, the other kids would ask me "Why are you playing with the building set instead of the dolls?" I simply answered with a proud look on my face "Because my dad is a construction worker and I wanna be just like him one day."

Dad, don't you remember how I would look forward to the nights where we would sit in the family room and watch our favorite TV show Wipeout together?

Or how I would beg you to take me and my brother to the Cruisin Grand car show every Friday night during the summer?

The way I proudly pulled you onto the dance floor at the school's father-daughter dances? And how when you would get tired and try to sit down, I would beg you for another dance?

How my brothers would look forward to going fishing with you or going to the races?

All the stuff Mom did for you and with you? Your oaths to her as a husband?

The way you felt when you held your kids for the first time? When you held me as a newly adopted orphan? Weren't you filled with the fatherly desire to protect that child in your arms for the rest of your life?

Don't you remember these things?

Did you remember these things when you made those choices that you knew were wrong? Did you think of how it would affect you? How it would affect us?

Now, it's gone. You made your choices. You chose which path you were gonna walk on. And now you're here at the dead end of the path, your life is slipping out of your hands like sand, and everything around you is in ruins. But you won't pay attention to the ruins around you, and try to fix anything or try to turn back. You will just keep looking at how you are affected, and just sit there.

When will you stop Dad? Look around you for once. You're not the only one suffering now.

You're supposed to be the protector.