But you are my father
by Kimberly Bauer
But you are my father.
I stare at you through my memories of your face.
I can hear your laugh, see your narcissistic smile and my feelings grow complex.
I hate you.
I love you.
I wish i could have picked anyone else to be my father but I miss you.
I hope to never talk to you again but I just can’t block your number. It’s a complex thing.
You are but one imperfect person but you have caused me more pain than you will ever know.
You will never know because I cannot seem to tell you.
You break me and all that I am is lost when I am around you.
In life, I am a strong, assertive and confident woman.
But around you, I am but a child. Frozen in time to the little girl who can’t seem to hurt you.
Even after what you did.
I have spent years in therapy and I still can’t shake you from my psyche. I want to be rid of you and all you have put me through, but I still worry about if/when you will call. You have a hold on me. A hold I can’t seem to understand. I want to scream at your face, punch the lights out of you and most days I wish that you were dead. But you are still my father, and that is a complex thing.
Even with the fragmented memories of abuse, you are still my father.
I still remember camping and hugging you and spending my childhood with you. I remember lagoon and ice cream trips and how you would call me from work any day that I was home sick. If you were anyone else I would have ripped every attachment to you from the fibers of my soul but you are my father. It’s a complex thing.
I can’t let the pain of you go.
Pain. the first thing I feel when I think of you. The first thing I feel when I hear stories of good fathers, making sacrifices and showing love to their children. But you are my father and there is still a part of me that hopes to hear you say “ I love you and I am sorry.” If you were anyone else I would have told you off and shared the story of your evil indifference to the world. But you are my father. It is a complex thing.
I hope one day I will feel nothing at the thought, sound or sight of you. But for now you are a demon in my life. A constant undercurrent on my pursuit of happiness. You are nothing but a well of guilt, sorrow, confusion and angst. But you are my father and it is a complex thing.
Posted on 10/16/2016
Copyright © 2020 Kimberly Bauer