when i tell people about my father, they never understand me.
they say im lucky to have one thats alive.
they tell me how its rare to even know who he is, so i should be lucky im not stuck with that curiosity.
i was able to live with him for a few years and some people dont live in the same state as theirs.
im lucky. thats what they always said.
someone has it worse.
someones father doesnt know they exist.
someones father lives too far away.
someone's father has died.
they don't realize i would gladly take that option.
my father lives near me, and yet hasn't seen me in eight years.
your father has an excuse, mine doesn't.
he choose, for eight years to live a life completly devoid of mine.
he didn't call me. he didn't visit me. and he choose to do that.
my father lived with me for a few years when i was young and it was hell.
he physically abused my mother and emotionally abused me.
when i was four he held a knife to my moms throat and was going to kill her if i didnt run across the dark apartment lot over to a neighbors house so they could save her.
he constantly ignored me and would binge on alcohol for days at a time.
there were times i saw a stranger who had the same skin color as my dad and would yell "daddy" and hug them.
i saw him so rarely as a child that i had forgotten at times what he looked like, and would mistake a random stranger for him.
my father choose not to come to my birthday parties. or my graduation.
he knows i exist and yet acts like i dont.
my father isnt dead, or far away, or a mystery, but he might as well be.
i dont know the man and im sure if i did i wouldn't like what i found out.
i would rather have a few years with a good father than a lifetime with a bad one.
he has no excuse not to be in my life and that makes it even worse.
so im not lucky.
im not blessed to "even have a father".
heres a big fuck you to anyone who compares tragedies or thinks they know something off of the few things you heard.
fuck you for telling me what i should feel for the things ive gone through.
everyone has a sad story and its not up to you to tell people how they should feel about it or how sad they are allowed to be.
fuck you and your words that you think dont effect people just because you said them without a care on how they do.
fuck.
you.
