EPTI don't.. I don't know how to describe my so-called relationship with my dad. It's just... I feel like he has never really loved me. I've always disappointed him, never been the boy or man or person that he wanted me to be. I'm always told I have potential, but I never take advantage of it. Sometimes I wonder if I am really his son. It might be paranoia, and I don't really have any evidence to say otherwise, but he just seems so far gone from me, so indifferent, and I don't look like him; I'm just not like him.
Now I don't live with him, and I see him maybe twice a month. Ever since he divorced my mom because he had an affair, things have been difficult. No, that's a fucking lie. It's always been bad. When I was a kid, and he was always working, or always tired when he got home. I'd see him awake for maybe two hours a day, because he was off working, in another country, working out, or probably fucking some woman. Then he'd fall right asleep. And even the time that I did get to talk to him, it was never a good thing; "CyDe has been doing badly in school," "CyDe has been spending all day on his computer," "CyDe has no friends," "CyDe has been fighting with his mother," "CyDe has never aspired to be anything at all." CyDe's a fucking failure. He'd just look at me with these hollow eyes, like I was goddamn burden, and I feel like I've always been a burden.
And he isn't a good person. He cheated and lied, and neglected. He's beaten me to an unrecognizable pulp on a regular basis, from five years old to a year ago when I had to go to a hospital and taken away from my family for seven months. He doesn't know how to have friends, and seems sad. Sad and apathetic. I don't know what he is thinking, ever. We've never done any of the things that fathers and sons are supposed to do. It's always just been weird. He used to read books to me, and I guess we would do some things like pruning trees or throwing javelin together. But.. it's artificial. I don't think he likes touching me.
Despite I know he isn't a good person, I still always want his stupid fucking approval. I don't want to tell him how badly I did in school this year. I don't want him to know that I am considering not going to college. He won't look at me, and he won't say much, but I know he would be so let down. I don't think he would know what to say. I don't know anything about him. I think he was born on September 18th, in Missouri. Or maybe the 30th. I think his middle name is Phillip. I think he is a doctor, an RMO, something important that takes him from home all the time. Or used to. I don't live with him anymore. I've said that already.
He isn't interested in what I am. I like computers, and games, and comedy and atheism/philosophy, and writing. He has to force himself to talk to me about these things. I see it. I just feel like he hates me. I think I should know that he loves me, because he is obligated to through evolution, but I am not sure he wants to. Does that make sense? I don't want to be that. I don't want him to force anything. I don't want to be a burden, but nothing will convince me that I am otherwise. I'm just a failure in his eyes, and I'm starting to fail my own.
I've never said any of this to him. I've never even considered it. That's just not how the dynamic works. I don't tell him things. You know he never even gave me the whole, "Birds and the bees" speech? Not that I needed it, but isn't that something that fathers do? I guess there is no trust. Mutually. I don't tell him things that mean anything to me in a seeded emotional way. He doesn't tell me anything either. I don't tell him that I've been depressed for the last six years of my life. I don't tell him that he's destroyed both physically and emotionally, because one would FUCKING THINK THAT HE COULD SEE SOMETHING SO FUCKING OBVIOUS YOU FUCKING BASTARD YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE. How could you do this to me? HOW CAN YOU LOOK AT YOURSELF? Can't you see the sadness? OR THE FUCKING TEARS?
But I suppose I don't really trust anybody anymore. After everyone you've ever loved has betrayed you in a thousand different ways it gets to be a little hard. It gets to the point you stop trying, just to protect yourself and what little sense of reality you've retained.
After so much abuse, the subtle mental abuse in the form of neglect, and the physical abuse... I don't know what I am doing here. A year ago, on January 21st, at 12:12 AM, he and my mother held me down and beat my face for 12 minutes. I don't know what he became, but it was hardly human. He was so angry, he was just hitting me again and again and again and again. It was open handed, but there was nothing I could do. He was on top of me, ironically the most contact I'd had with him in years. My arms were being crushed by his weight; he is so powerful, he works out everyday. His hands were hitting my face again and again and I didn't know what to do but scream and scream. I tried to protect my face, but there was nothing my pathetic body could do to fight. He finally stopped after I pleaded, and begged, "I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry!" Even then he didn't seem to know what he had done. He was still angry. I was bleeding from the lips, because I still had braces, and I couldn't see, and my face was already beginning to swell. Two black eyes, and my eyes were solid red on the sides where his stray fingers smashed into them. And my hair... it was all falling out. I will never forget that; for weeks it felt like his hand was still there, ripping my hair backwards to expose my face. The top of my head swelled up for a little over a month, and I remember trying to sleep on that was the most painful thing that I have ever had to do in my life. So there I was. Bleeding, blinded, swelling, crying, sitting in the corner of my room because I couldn't lay down.
I wrote a note. I opened the window. I was looking down... and I could have done it. I could have. I didn't have anything left that I wanted to live for. My parents, my fucking parents, the people who vowed to protect me at all costs when they decided to conceive me, had destroyed me. But I thought for a time. I considered my note. I.. I just had nothing to say. What would I leave in this world? Nothing. Because that's what I was. Some blood and hair and tears. I decided I didn't want to leave like that. So I closed the window, burned the note, and took my life from there.
But I don't know how I'm doing with that. When I went to treatment, I should have done something. I should have changed what was between my dad and I. The... nothing. I could have. He would have been forced into it. But I didn't. That's not how things work between my dad and I. We keep our distance, we don't do things that are important. And now I think all hope is gone. But I still cry a tear or two every now and again when I think about all this. And I never cry. That's not what I do. But this makes me shed a tear.
I don't understand. I love him. BUT I FUCKING HATE HIM. But... I can't do that. I love him. I just want him to love me. I do like spending time with him, because I've never really done that. I do have fun, but it's so surface-y. It's to the point where I feel like if he died, tomorrow, I'm not even sure how I would feel. I know I would be sad, but.. who the fuck is he? I don't know. And isn't that supposed to be sad? Aren't you supposed to undoubtedly love your parents? I don't. I don't think I love either of them. I know that I don't love my mother, but my dad is more complicated. I don't know what to do.
+ Show Spoiler +
Love in my eyes,
I sat by the door,
Waiting for the slam
Who was I even waiting for?
You tiger, you serpent
Never seen by the day,
Never seen by the night
Never seen by your prey.
Your suggestions of perfections
And my everlasting failure--
I’m so sorry your seed never grew to be
Anything more,
More than meager ol’ me.
I’m your pitfall, your shame
But who are you to blame?
Your wanting eyes, they pass by mine
Crushing my heart and snapping my spine.
But not tonight, for tonight you fled
Leaving the skin, the skin you shed
In disgust of my prints
And in lust of a prince
A prince like you had never bred.
I sat by the door,
Waiting for the slam
Who was I even waiting for?
You tiger, you serpent
Never seen by the day,
Never seen by the night
Never seen by your prey.
Your suggestions of perfections
And my everlasting failure--
I’m so sorry your seed never grew to be
Anything more,
More than meager ol’ me.
I’m your pitfall, your shame
But who are you to blame?
Your wanting eyes, they pass by mine
Crushing my heart and snapping my spine.
But not tonight, for tonight you fled
Leaving the skin, the skin you shed
In disgust of my prints
And in lust of a prince
A prince like you had never bred.
tonight i hate this fucking skin
happy father's day
-your broken son
