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I love it when it rains. It stormed earlier, black swirling clouds and thunder that shook the windows... but now its lightened up just enough so that its perfect for me to turn off my ac and open the windows. A cool wind blowing, lightly raining just enough that you can see it and hear it hit all the leaves. It makes for a perfect day for me to take a warm bath, put on my pajama pants and a sweat-shirt and lay on the couch all evening reading my latest book and just relaxing.
Every year as my birthday comes around I end up thinking about my father a lot. In part because he shares the same birthday as me, and in another part because it makes his absence from my life that much more obvious. When I was young he would try every once in a while, but mostly I just remember him promising that he would pick me up and I would get up that morning and get dressed and sit by the window the entire day because I knew that my daddy was going to pick me up and prove everyone wrong (especially my grandfather) and he was going to whisk me away for an entire day just the two of us... And then I would eventually get up from my spot by the window after the entire day had passed by and go to bed, making excuses for him the entire time. Knowing in my heart that He was the one in the wrong. It was in no way my fault nor was it my responsability to make our relationship work. He was the adult I was the child, he was the one that should have been there... So why do I feel so responsible? Like I'm the one that didnt put forth enough effort. As I've gotten older I've lost just about all respect for him, as most people who have been dissappointed as much as i have tend to do. And I'll readily admit that I've shied away from some of his attempts to make one of his rare appearances in my life. So when I look back I dont see a girl that was used and hurt by someone that I should have trusted. Instead I see an 18 year old girl who should be at a point in my life where I can put the past behind me and make an effort to have a relationship with my ever-absent father. Somehow I've managed to make myself believe that its not his fault for being an unloving father, but rather mine for being a stubborn girl who refuses to let go of my past pain and grudges. Written on 2004-10-04 @ 4:07 p.m. |