An ongoing story

Chapter 2- The soldier of a father

             Daddy's little girl. Taken from the womb of the mother, a twin, me being the 'little girl' that my dad has always wanted. But was I the little girl? The 'gift' that my dad was excited for? My father wanted a girl, my mother wanted a boy. My father was my favorite when I was younger. A five year old, with a ten mile smile. Prepared for the world, because my dad had my hopes up. Kept me safe from the world. But that was the issue. He fought so hard, he left to iraq. A Navy SeaBee, born to fight for us. Protecting us from the horrors that tried to inflict on us. Even when my father was away at war. He still loved us. So much so, that he sent us a video, explaining in detail, and reading us our favorite story. Proving we were still on his mind. And the reason he was so far away. As a kid, I thought he was just going on vacation. Gone for a year, and came back so fast. Time flew for me. Praying in the dark with my sister and brother, clenching the squirt guns he bought us before he had left. We protected him as he protected us.

             My father became harsh. After 08, it was just me, my brother, and him. Struggling to get by, and working so hard. He was always gone. I never understood why he'd come home so angry. Frustrated that us as kids weren't 'grateful' for what he was giving. It gave me anxiety, and anger as well, and suddenly my whole house was nothing but a war zone. I felt as if I was treading on ice, every day. Afraid of what i'd do wrong, and what consequences came after. I wasn't his little girl anymore, who'd pride behind him in joy, wanting to create the world by his side. In reality, I was a scared, hurt 10 year old, not understanding why my parents left me the way they did. It was a constant battle, and most of the time I lost. And eventually I felt that it was just me against the world. And no longer daddy by my side. I felt comfort in my mother's calls. And Soon enough, I was forgotten in my mother's actions.
             A roof over my head, Food on the table, Clothes on my back. Great memories of trips to aquariums, and zoos, and hikes in the wilderness. Just like my mother, my dad couldn't be all bad. He provided security for me. And maybe he wasn't my best friend, but he taught me the ways of life. He played games with me, and smiled and laughed at my terrible jokes. He threw me over his shoulder, and swung me like a monkey would on a vine. His door was always open for me, and though i'd rarely take it, it had me aware, knowing that my father would drop what he was doing, just for me. He provided me happiness, even if my childhood seemed dark. He kept me in the light. And that was the thing I needed. He was always doing what was best for me, even if he was confused at times.

           My father hasn't been the greatest dad, and that's ok to me. Because he had to play the bad guy in order to put us where we're at. I will always love him for the things he's given, and the advice he's provided. I will never forget the sacrifices he's made, not only as a father, but as a person. He's taken so many bullets for me, just so i can wear the bullet-proof vest. And through it all, my dad was my rock, And I can always fall back for him to catch me.