End of a 22 year late relationship

         Im gonna be late. Those words, expected as they were, forced a sigh from my lungs. I had to laugh in responce to my fathers gest. It does seem like there is always an excuse for him. Is it the fear of the unknown that drives him to use these excuseds? What did he tell my mother when he left all those years ago? He has yet to fully explain why he was never there? Try as he might though, to feed me that lie, I am him, the blood flows from his vein into my own. Thoughts intertwined like the limbs of Roman nobility after a drunken orgy, I can see from his face he has no reason. Welcoming though were these arms, forgiveness overflowing into his dish. Warnings of this man brought to me by my mother, but i know all. I believed in a new beginning. He was dying to one life, just as I, a bondness which only grew once added to the blood we share.
         So here was the man, absent for twenty years. Here he was sending his first son this feeble text. I could see the fear in the words. How? It's strange but like i said, our thoughts are one and the same.
         Afraid of losing his son that he had just recovered. Fear, that was not strong enough for him to be on time. I should of just told him to fuck it. To live his life on his own terms and to forget that he and i ever met. Glorious as it was though. He was the friend i have been looking for. The brother, and yet this man is my father. Cofusion clouds my judgement because i know he means well, but actions speak so much louder than words, and i for one am guilty of this attribute of prideful weakness and manipulation. Cleer word churner we may yet be, words can only hold for so long before action must follow suit.
         How late? My response. As i hit the send button, i recieve the next text from the man i had met for the first time 2 weeks prior.
I have a valid ecuse i think.
         Reading this, my smirk shifts into a grimace. I can feel my head shaking back in forth in disbelief on its own and a gutteral sob of laughter jerks out from my throat.
         whatever, i gave him this opportunity to show face with my grandmother, the woman he so feared. And he wants to give me excuses. I should have known when i woke up in the bushes with  my broken black beauty, Delores II that this man wasnt who i had hoped him to be.
         whatever. Californication is calling me. Maybe once i get my car back, ill make that 3000 mile trek back to visit. And yet,  most likely not.