Rescue Me

I don't remember the last time I said "I love you". It was never part of my vocabulary and I don't think it ever will be.

You see, my mother left my father as soon as I was born. My father blamed me for their "unwanted mistake."

I was used to the crude comments by now. When my father told me I was ugly, fat, and dull, it stung me the first time, but then, I just didn't care.

I don't love my father...at least I don't think I do. We've never shared those three words.

This one horrible afternoon, my grandmother Anne told me she loved me and I responded with "okay".

I haven't seen grandma Anne in twelve years.

Love. I won't hear of it, I won't speak of it, and I won't think of it.

The nasty word has been thrown in my face way to many times to count. I won't put myself in a position that will leave me like my alcoholic father.