Words.

Words

Supportive, gentle, loving. Words that could be used to describe a father. A father is there for you from day one. He forgives you for your mistakes. Tells you it will be ok.
That cannot be said about my father.
Destructive, abusive, belittling. More accurate words for William. For as long as I can remember he has been a mean man.
Mean. It's such a simple word. But it fits him like a glove.
Being told you're lazy. Worthless. All because you slept in. Witnessing your mother being called a piece of shit countless times. These are not memories a child should have. But these were my reality.


To this day hearing a door slam sends me back to when my father would stand there repeatedly slamming his bedroom door to wake us up. Blasting music in the garage so loud the neighborhood could hear it. These actions sound like a child instead of a grown adult. Unfortunately that is William.
Childish.


Water and oil. My mother and father. They don't go together like water and oil. They bring out the worst in each other. How can a marriage survive with so much hatred? My mother was determined to stick to her vows. She made herself believe that there was still love in their marriage.


What is wrong with him? Why is he like this? I know so little about my father. But he knows even less about me. He's never met my significant other of 8 years. His grandchildren. William doesn't know about my life after the age of 13.


I have inherited traits from my father. They are not things to be proud of.
Rage.
Grudges
Stubborn
Cold.
Who wants to be like that? I have to change myself for the better. I need to become someone different so I have no connection to him at all.


Over the years the phone is always there. In the pocket, on the table, pressed to your ear. Why could I never be on the receiving end of that phone from you? A simple "Hey, how's it going?" was never exchanged in the past 13 years. How hard is that? I would have answered. I would have said hello.
Why couldn't you?


Alcohol. A substance that is abused by many and loved by even more. It was a big presence in my home since before it was even a home.
Maybe they were drowning their sorrows.
Maybe they were self medicating.
Either way.
Alcohol.
It was always there for them even when they weren't there for each other.


Cowering. I remember after the bad fights we would hide. Sometimes in my bedroom, since it locked unlike my mother's. If we chose her room he would storm in and continue his rage.
Throwing.
Hitting.
Smashing everything around him.
It was like a storm came through. It's only safe to come out once the storm has calmed.
What caused these storms? It could be back-talking, disrespect, or simply not being fast enough with chores.


Cold shoulder. The chill is in the air. He must be mad again. What did I do this time? How long is it going to be before he talks again? Maybe if I pretend that everything is alright he will like me again.
Ten years. He has gone that long already not talking to someone, am I next? I didn't mean to upset him. I have to be so delicate with what I say to him. He's so sensitive but he is not sensitive when it comes to your feelings.


I look around and see these women getting married. The happiest day of their lives. My day will have a piece missing from it, getting my father to walk me down the aisle.
I try to not let it affect me.
Don't ruin the day.
Stay positive.
But it's always there in the back of mind. I'll be alone.


Apologize. Should I apologize for something that happened 13 years ago?
8 years ago?
3 years ago?
Maybe he will show up if I just say sorry.
Sorry for not being the daughter you wanted me to be.
Sorry for letting you down.
Sorry for disrespecting you.
Sorry you have so much hate in your heart towards me.
Are you sorry though? About anything?


Maybe if I were his son he would have talked to me by now. But I am his only daughter.
Girl.
Woman.
She.
Femme.
Does he hate females? Are they inferior to him?
"Where's my dinner? It's 6 o'clock."
The only thing a woman is good for. A woman's place is in the kitchen. Make me a sandwich damnit!


Is this what love is?
Yelling.
Hitting.
Smashing.
I think so. That's all I have seen my life so that must be love.
Right?
Yes.
There were smiles but a switch can flip. Out comes the fury. How can I turn out normal when I have been shown so much hate.