Dear Dad,

When I called you on Father's Day, I thought I was being a nice person. A good daughter. Even though I had called my stepfather first. You didn't need to know that. I asked you how the baby was doing, how you and his mother were doing, and you sounded tired but genuinely happy. And for what it's worth, that made me happy.

You asked me to come visit you all sometime, and while it would be a doable overnight trip or a very long one day trip, and frankly is not something high on my list of things I want to do, I said I would think about it and left the door open.

You asked about me and my life, and I had nothing to say considering things are pretty much the same as the last time I saw and spoke to you. I work, I run, I try to relax with my friends and by myself. You asked whether I had made plans to see that old family friend who I hadn't seen since I was 12 and who is now a 29 year old investment banker. I didn't tell you that I went out with him on Thursday night and basically wanted to kill myself for a three hour period of time. Let's just say it wasn't a love match. Yes, I may be 27, but I'm nowhere near over the hill and I don't need you to set me up anymore.

I'm not sure why, but I blurted out something like "Why haven't you told Mom about the baby?" Which really meant, why have you cut her out since you got remarried? You had a relatively civil divorce, you definitely spoke over the years since, you would always forward your flight information to the three of us if anything ever happened, and now you pretend like she doesn't exist. You said it's because NW (new wife) doesn't feel comfortable about "the situation." You mean the situation where you were married for 23 years and had and raised two daughters? That situation? Sorry, but if you ever expect me, or my sister, to have a relationship with NW or our brother, let me tell you something. You both had better get the fuck over it.

Because if I have to choose, it's not going to be you. I've never been very traditional, so it won't pain me (very much) to not have you walk me down the aisle.

So thanks. Thanks for making me basically hang up on you when you put NW on the phone when I was still talking to you about "the situation." Thanks for the future therapy bills I will eventually incur but continue to put off. Thanks for loving me so much that you won't speak to my other parent anymore.

Thanks. And Happy Father's Day.