Joke is on me

I spend way too much time thinking about him. I spend way too much time wondering if he thinks about me. I try to remember the good times we had, but those were over 25 years ago now. I try to forget the verbal fights I used to witness, but those are things that are easiest to recall. I never wanted it to be this way. I feel like it is partially my fault that I didn't make the effort to go to his country and ask him the hard questions: Why did you leave the country? Why did you marry my aunt? Why did you stop calling me on my birthday? Why did you stop caring?