He said I’m a liar. He said I’ll never change. He said he’s done with me. Maybe he’s right.
Year after year it has been the same story with my dad. Sometimes I stop and wonder, “Is it him or is it me?” I know I’m not the best daughter he would want me to be, but it’s not like he’s the best father in the world either. Yet again, I know it’s partly my fault. I’m a bit confused. Thoughts are being scattered in my mind I can’t think straight.
What do I do? Who to blame? What does he want from me? How can I stop this? Will it ever end? Does he hate me? Why does he hate me? Why do I make him hate me?
In some way, I just want to run back into his arms, like I used to when I was five years old, and I had not seen him in months. A part of me just wants to cry at his feet and beg him not to leave me. The little girls that is still yet in me, doesn’t want her daddy to ignore her and not be there. But the 15 year old teenage girl that I am wants to be strong and stubborn, acting as if I don’t care nor need him for anything.
I’ve never smoked, never drank or got involved in gags. I always seem to have a boyfriend though; he does not approve. “I’m too young”, he always says. I guess it is true but…I’m a teenage girl. I’m growing and I…I…I don’t know. At this particular moment, I can’t even think of an excuse as to why I always have a boyfriend.
It started in fifth grade, my first year of middle school, and still hasn’t ended. My dad has always said though, “It’s not what you do that gets me mad, it’s that you lie about it.” And that’s exactly what I’ve been doing since fifth grade. I lied. I still lie. Why should I be honest with him about anything though? He’s never made me feel like I can tell him things. Growing up, he was hardly ever there for me and my siblings and he isn’t good at showing us he cares either. They did though…the boys did.
They do show me they love me and they do care. He doesn’t because I don’t think he does. Sigh. I’m in denial. I know he does but…it is really hard to believe. I seem to always be making up excuses as to why I do what I do, but it’s because they’re true. Ugh. There I go again-another excuse. There’s something wrong with me but I won’t take all the blame. It’s his fault too.
Last night he lectured me, I thought about his words and the meaning to the message he was trying to send out to me as I cried on my bed, covering my face and not knowing what to do-like always. I never know what to do. All I know is that I want it my way…but that can’t be any more. He thinks I’ve never been hurt before but I have and therefore I understand him a bit but…I still don’t know. It happened in fifth grade, sixth grade, very harshly in seventh grade, and then again in eighth grade, yet I still run back to it. I feel like if I have no control.
Now I’m a freshman and again, I’ve found somebody-somebody who is better then the ones from my past. In my eyes he’s perfect and I know he won’t hurt me. I don’t want to let go and by not doing so, I’m provoking more conflict at home. This war between my dad and I…will always be never ending.