Tales of a Neverland Lost Girl

For the Love of a Daughter (please father)

Ah there it is. His second glass. Can't we watch Unbroken in peace? Or is that impossible because we could never relate? Sure it's about war and we don't know that. But I guess we don't know what it's like to be unbroken. I suppose all we'll ever be is broken.

Can't I enjoy a fine film without having to worry if he's going to be drunk again? Please...don't make me stress.

What would his girlfriend think? She's been here since April. It's August. Apparently she's looked passed whatever it is that made him loose two wives. Keep her.

It's happened before. He was drunk with her, my brother and I before. We were out. In south Philly. Ed Sheeran serenaded me in the car on the way there. She was in the front seat. My brother and I in the back.

As soon as I saw where we were eating, I had anxiety about the restaurant. All the people in there looked really cool and judgmental, they all dressed really nice and were all super beautiful. So here I am walking in with my hair soaking wet from my shower, with no makeup on and in flip flops. I got so nervous walking in that I got the hiccups. They played really cool hipster music and my brother and I were the only people under 18. Everyone kept looking. It was a college kids' hangout place. All the men were either extremely hot with beards or extremely gay with pastel glass frames. The women were skinny and have perfectly styled hair and are fucking gorgeous. They kept looking at me like "You peasant, what is your purpose? Trick question! You have no purpose, leave my presence, you filth".

Everyone was playing drinking games and making out in corners and this guy had been trying for like a half hour to pick up this girl behind us and I just wanted to slap him for being a fuckboi. The burger didn't even taste good. It was one of those outdoor places with benches and lights hanging over the trees and it had gravel for floors and it reeked of firewood and perfume.

They had little games that you could pick up in the front and so we picked Jenga. I accidentally knocked down the Jenga tower because I was trying to move the plates out of the way and his girlfriend looked at me like I offended her great ancestors. I felt so sick. I really didn't want to be there. I wanted to be home and asleep and watching old movies with my stuffed animals.

My aunt and uncle came later. They're only 35 so they're a lot of fun and not so old yet. My aunt Amelia is the only color on his side of the family. She's naturally my color in the summer so she's pretty dark compared to some of my Irish relatives. I like her. She was making this whole thing bearable.

Uncle Ed was my best friend growing up. He was only 22 when I was little and he was like an older brother. Only about an hour into dinner my dad is drunk.

So on the Jenga pieces are dares and he had to address everyone in a weird nickname. I said something to my brother, not a concern to him, and then he said "Shut up, haystack!" and started dying laughing. I didn't blow dry my hair and it was frizzy. He knows I'm self conscience about my hair. I fried it with the bleach and I know it doesn't look good but he just decides to say it anyway.

And then there was Puerto Rico. He was drunk out of his mind. It was a family vacation. All of our cousins and even my grandparents were there. He pushed my brother "playfully", he called it, into the street where I could have become an only child. I become afraid of him when he drinks. He says things. Things that don't make sense. And he gets so close that I feel unsafe. Most of the time he's a great father. It's only when he starts drinking that I feel uneasy being in the same house as him. Nothing has happened. Nothing will probably happen. But there's always that uneasiness that comes with a wine glass.

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Yeah....basically.

-m