When I was seven years old he was yelling at me. I knew I made him angry by something really ridiculous.
On my ninth birthday he woke me up with a weird and funny noise. He tried to act like a dog to make me laugh.
With fourteen he allowed me to have my first piercing. He also was making jokes of how much I look like a bull.
When I turned eighteen I felt suffer. I didn't recognise him anymore.
Throughout the time my characteristics never made me be ashamed of my father. He made me laugh, hate, sad and everything a father simply makes a daughter feel. He even made me feel guilty for more times than I was actually guilty of.
At the age of five my parents seperated. At nine they divorced. I could ask any psychologist what this makes a single-child feel. Anyway, I don't feel like asking anymore.
I remember that feeling I used to have in kindergarden when my father came to pick me up in the afternoon. To be one of the first children to be picked up, this was exactly the highlight of my day. And this could have gone on for-ever.
Though it never came to this part. At last, there was always me left. I guess that's the reason why people wonder I am the last one every time. They don't know that I am waiting to be picked up. To wait for my dad to come.
In spite of all the problems I have caused him and all the issues he has left, it will never change who he is to me and who I am to him. That's what makes us feel loved.
In other words, a father and a daughter knows how to bent to each other. A curve doesn't always stay crooked. But fathers and daughters never say goodbye.
