Updated: May 27
It’s that time of year again. The time where i take up a few minutes of your time writing about how much i miss and how much i hated my father. I know what you’re probably thinking…How can you miss somebody you hate?
My father visits me every day. Whether he whistles at me through the damp Spring air or through the rotting dirt where he resides. He visits me in my dreams, although the ativan makes it hard to remember, or in my nightmares to remind me of why i hate him. He visits me through flashbacks and also when i dissociate from the cruel world he left me all alone in. He visits me when i hear any country song whatsoever. I see him in pictures that i keep on my laptop because I want to collect everything that i can of his that i have left and never lose it so i dont forget him. I’m too afraid that my hate for him will make my brain supress anything with his Self in it. Love is not linear.
My father was the best person I’ve ever known and also the worst person I’ve ever known. He was the first man I ever fell in love with. I met him when I was 1 and by the time i started calling him father at the age of 2, he knew he did not want to leave me. So he married my mom “because he fell in love with me first”. Like could you make a little girl feel more special and more welcomed into this world? While i grew up I was a total daddy’s girl. He taught me how to balance my checkbook, he taught me how to do my own taxes, he taught me how to properly scrub a bathtub, how to ride a bike, how to cut my steak, how to pay my own rent. He taught me to stand tall, be assertive and how to live a fulfilling life.
He also taught me distrust. He taught me people lie, he taught me anger, he taught me how to cheat, sneak around and not spontaneity but impulsiveness that “I should do whatever it takes to get ahead” without thinking about consequences. He taught me miscommunication, he taught me all boys only want one thing from me And with that he was both right and wrong.
Now, 6 years after his passing I am sitting at home on a Saturday morning writing about him. This world seems way to overwhelming to step into. I dont know up from down or right from left anymore. The one person I loved the most in life was the same person who has hurt me the most. You have no fucking idea how hard it is to fight that fight every day.
Indecision is KILLING ME, dad. I feel like i lived in a movie. If it wasnt one thing it was something else and the whole time I BELIEVED IT WAS OKAY BECAUSE YOU SAID YOU LOVED ME. It disgusts me to think about loving you, now that you are gone after all you put my body through. I shame myself for loving you when you molested me. How could you do that to your baby girl?
But its near impossible to forget those good times. They don’t rule the bad out by any means. You are gone from my life but your lessons are not. You are still teaching me things to get me through this holographic, 2 dimensional world. The past 6 years you have taught me to listen to myself. To forgive myself. To accept myself for who i am and that is all that matters anymore. What I had with you wasn’t perfect, but I’m now living in reality instead of a giant delusion i made up in my head to escape the pain from what i experienced. I dont have to fake it anymore. I dont have to pretend Im okay when i am clearly not and i dont have to feel bad about it anymore. I now know what love is. Pure love. Genuine Love. I wish you were here to see how much I’ve grown since i was a naive little girl and how my childhood experiences have let me see the world for what it really is. I can see people for who they really are and that is the best gift anyone has ever given me. I miss you dad, but I still hate the things that you said and did. I do not hate you.
Happy 6 years of your soul being put to rest, dad. You can live peacefully now that your demons aren’t haunting you everyday. I hope you are somewhere beneath the trees on the highest mountain keeping watch over all you left behind. I love you.
*You can still love somebody who abused you. Love is not linear.