Sunday, May 19, 2013

My Dad.

Its funny how life fucks you up. The second that anything or everything starts to go well, the breaks are slammed and shit hits the fan.  The one and only guy that I have ever really cared for, my dad, is not there. He is physically, but mentally, he would not care if I was never born. And he can say as he wishes, but my sister is the favorite. The constant pride he as for her is.... so annoying.  I could poop diamonds and he would be unimpressed. But regardless, this is the story of the day it all came crashing down. I was six or seven, and just got home from school. My sister was going to play with the neighbor girls and I was going into the house. I had already known that my parents were splitting up and had accepted this. The reality was, what it was and there was nothing I could do to change it. But that was not what changed everything. There was something different about that day. The feeling in the house was crazy. The tension made my stomach hurt.
I walked into the front door and the awkward air hit me like a train. This was the moment I realized my dad was leaving. I could hear my parents in the basement, talking about life, love and 'the kids'. I could hear the tears and the sadness. Although it was not sadness, it was more like a gray cloud, just looming. I honestly cant even put it into words, but I never want to feel that way again. I walked into the staircase leading into the basement. I dont remember what they were talking about, but I knew he was packing up the car. I sat there on the stairs for a while, just waiting for the cloud to disappear, and things to go back to normal. But it never did. I walked down the stairs anyway and just hugged my dad. My mom was visibly distraught and so sad. The more I relive it, the more it seems like a scene from a really shitty, over dramatic love story. But whatever, I knew it was bad. So in the mist of their daily argument  I ran up and hugged my dad. He just picked me up, kissed me on the forehead and put me down. The he got in his car and drove away.
That was it. I watched his car leave the driveway and go down the street, all of the things he had in his trunk; except his family was no longer with him. I waited there, looking down the road. I sat there for at least an hour just waiting for him to come back, tell me he was kidding and come home. Although this seems bad, so many kids go through this. This is not uncommon. And honestly the divorce wasnt that bad, I got used to it really fast. But the image of watching my dad leave my mom in tears and me standing there, waiting, will never go away. That is something that will live in my mind forever.
and still....

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