Not an adopted child, but a fatherless one.

Like nobodycares, I wrote to my biological father (as a child) and got no response. I imagined him often, though, always as some sort of powerful figure who might swoop in at any moment and save me from my dreary childhood.

He didn't.

When I was 25, I googled him and found a work number and called in the middle of office hours. He took my call. We arranged to meet up. I was really nervous beforehand - I bought new clothes for the occasion, and had my hair cut the morning before.

I waited at our appointed meeting place. There were lots of people milling about. I saw a middle-aged, nondescript sort-of man who seemed a bit nervous, and decided it couldn't be him. I waited a while longer. He was the only person still waiting and looking. I went up to him and asked "are you [edricarica's biological father]?" He looked astonished and then pleased and then tears welled up in his eyes and, because we're British and emotion isn't something we do, I quickly suggested we go on a walk along the nearby canal:

As soon as we met up, my curiosity was satiated. I no longer saw him as some impossibly-distant and powerful figure, but as an ordinary man. He, on the other hand, was smitten. I had (and still do, it's one of the reasons I don't see all that much of him) the feeling of being on a date with someone punching above his weight?!? (it is really strange to write that, it's not something I've put words to before)...

So, yeah. Weird. We write every few weeks and see each other when we're in the same country. He's a good person. But he's not my parent, you know?