My Father

Hi Everyone!

I'm currently listening to What Hurts the Most (Radio Mix US) by Cascada.

So, my father has been weighing on my mind lately, well for a day or two. On the common application for colleges they ask you about your parent's status. I had to write divorced then deceased for my father. My father died five years ago now. I was in seventh grade. It is still strange to think about. I couldn't really talk about it, not because it hurt, but because no one would understand.

A lot of people say that no one will understand or something like that. Here's the thing though, I wasn't hurting over the fact that he died. I know that sounds bad, but I wasn't. Well, now I sound like a bitch, let me explain...

Background Story...

I was two years old when my mom divorced my dad. He wanted me but my mom got custody, he got visitation rights every other weekend. One catch though was the fact that my grandparents or mom had to be there too. In other words, he wasn't allowed to be alone with me. Most of time it was just my grandparent's and me every other weekend. He wasn't reliable. My grandparent's ended up moving out of state a couple of years after my parent's got divorced. My dad wanted visitation, just me and him. My mom said no, rightly so.

My dad was into some pretty bad illegal stuff. He constantly jumped from job to job. He was the epitome of a dead beat dad. He left the state, without telling anyone, for a couple of years. He would call me every single birthday though. No matter how messed up he was, I would always get that phone call.

Well, he came back into the state where I live and, of course, he wanted to see me. I said no, I didn't want to. I didn't know him... Well fast forward a couple of years. I started talking to him on the phone to establish a relationship. We decided to meet at a crowded safe place, a McDonalds. My mom and I went to that McDonalds, and waited, and waited, and waited. My heartbroke as I finished my McMeal and he wasn't there. I cried. We went home after waiting for two hours. The phone was ringing as soon as we entered our home. It was him. He was waiting a different McDonalds on the same street, just a different corner. Instead of being an adult and planning it for the next weekend, he yelled and screamed. He essentially scared me shitless. I stopped contact.

A couple of years later I saw him at my baby cousin's first birthday party. It was my first time seeing him in years. I decided it was time to keep in contact. I was getting ready to ask him if he wanted to meet. One night he called me, my mom and I were watching the Scooby Doo movie. He sounded different, far away. My mom got on the phone and heard that he was high and told him never to call me again when he was in that state. I didn't say "I love you". Two days later my dad killed himself. He was trying to overdose the night he called me but had such a high tolerance to drugs that he literally couldn't OD.

End of Background Story.

While I was sad that I never got to really know my dad, I never really got to know him, so how could I miss him? I didn't cry. I never got to know my father, I couldn't really mourn him. To this day I don't really notice, to me it's just like he's not calling once again. People tell me they are sorry for my loss. I used to say "I'm not" when they would say that, but now I just realize it's just something people say to make themselves feel better when I tell them I lost a parent.

I just figured out for myself though that I am sorry too though. Not because he died, but because I never got to know my father. For that I am truly sorry.

= I

Soul