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 Replacing Daddy

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~MJ~
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Posts : 41633
Join date : 2008-09-30
Age : 30

PostSubject: Replacing Daddy   Thu Oct 02, 2008 5:16 pm

The log house that had been my home for so many years seemed…lonely. I sat on the pale blue couch a brilliant contrast against the brown log walls and the green carpet. This house had been in the family for about ten years and all the furniture in it was either left over from when my Grandparents lived there or the valiant attempt of my mom to make it all mach without looking like you had stepped back in time upon entering the living room. That is were I was – my mind at least – in the past. Back to happier times when I loved to sit on that couch. Times when I was innocent, sheltered and I could still say I loved him without my gut turning in a knot with pain streaming through my body. Oh those were the days…..and they were long gone.
My feet were propped up on the massive wood coffee table that lived only about two feet away from the front of the warn couch. It was a nice coffee table with character. The discolored rings that ornamented its surface held claim to little grandchildren placing wet cups atop it during family get –togethers….also back in the day. I rested my head on the back of the sofa my arms hanging limp at my side and resting on the worn blue cushions. I closed my eyes and imagined my life before. It brought a smile to my face as I contemplated the steady facts. It wasn’t perfect by any stretch of the imagination but it was so good, better.
I didn’t open my eyes as the door swung open then closed silently behind whomever it was that came in. it could have been a number of people. Both of my sisters were out and my brother had been in the shop most of the morning, any one of them could have intruded my solace. On the other hand it could have been my Mom who had taken up woman’s bible study or should I say another woman’s bible study. Those where her escapes I figured and I was glad she found something more to occupy her time.
“Hey there,” the owner of the voice walked over and sat down beside me. I nearly cringed but tried my hardest not to show it on my face. It had been nearly three years but that didn’t really change much. I suppose he thought it should and so did nearly everyone else but for me it hadn’t. I wasn’t as hard set against his presence as I had been before and I would actually smile at him from time to time but beyond that I couldn’t allow myself. I had set the boundary and I wanted to keep it there, no I was dead set about keeping it there.
“So what you up to?” he asked looking at me I assumed by the direction of his voice. I still hadn’t opened my eyes.
“Nothing much Dad,” was my answer, simple and cold. Colder than I had intended but I didn’t mind.
“You ok?” he asked scooting closer to me.
“I’m fine,” I snapped my whole body going tense. He was dangerously close to breaching my very carefully set boundary and I didn’t like that. Some days it was worse than others and this was absolutely one of those days.
“Listen My….Jus….Ju…Meg,” he finally spit out my name. I could help but smile at the fact that he had to go through the names of nearly all the members of my family before he actually got to mine, “You know you can talk to me,” he said slipping his arm around my shoulders. That was it. I opened my eyes and set my feet on the ground. Without even glancing in his direction I slowly got up and walked over to the glass door looking out over the field that was supposed to be our front lawn. You know you can talk to me. I snorted at the thought. No, I didn’t know that because it simply wasn’t true. Perhaps he figured that since he could deal with everything that had happened that I could just move on and forget but I couldn’t.
I mused at how much my mom had been able to move on back to “normal” now and how my siblings seemed to have accepted their father back but not me. I guess I wasn’t strong enough. After it had all happened three years ago I told my mom point blank to leave that jerk but she had just shook her head and told me not to talk about him like that. I was so enraged, furious and hurt. It was the first time in my life that I had pitied my mom and that was an emotion I had never wanted to feel. She was my rock in so many ways, even if she didn’t know that, and to see her so hurt was unbearable. He had apologized, repented, bided his time with the cold shoulder of all of us but to me that didn’t really matter.
I watched the subtle breeze linger in the tall grass that hadn’t been cut in nearly three weeks. It was soothing and peaceful unlike most everything in my life.
“Meg,” I nearly jumped at the voice that was directly behind me now, “please.” That was all he said as he placed a loving hand on my shoulder. Why did he have to be like that? It would have been so much easier if he was mad for me being mad. If he reproached me for being so hostile and had tried to ground me for my disrespectful actions and attitude, that would have made it simpler - this relationship. But he never did, at least no yet. He just sighed when I reacted poorly to him and tried again. I whished he would just give up.
I silently walked back over to the couch and sat down. This yo –yo between us was normal. This time, however, I didn’t close my eyes and set my feet up on the coffee table to relax; instead I crossed my arms over my chest and stared at him. This was my defensive posture, a position that was nearly second nature to me now. He understood what I was doing and gave up on trying to be close to me. He simply stood by the door and looked at me.
“What?” I asked raising my eyebrows.
“I’m trying here Meg.”
I gritted my teeth visibly clenching my jaw.
“Give me some room, please.” He sounded hurt, worn out.
I didn’t really care how he sounded at that moment. I rolled my eyes. “Why?” I kept my side of the conversation down to one syllable per answer or question. It was easier that way.
“Meg it’s been a while. You Mom has-”
“Don’t,” I snapped cutting him off. I hated when he brought mom into these conversations. She had moved on. She had forgiven him and more power to her but I wasn’t her.
“Don’t what, Meg?” he asked
“Just don’t.” I could feel myself straying form my one syllable rule and that wasn’t a good sign. He ran his left hand through his hair and placed the other hand on his hip. This is what he did when he was trying to figure me out and lately he had been doing it alot. Good luck with that, I thought to myself shifting my weight just a bit.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know how many times I have said that but I will continue to say it till you finally believe me.”
I rolled my eyes again, this time much more visible.
“I am. I truly, truly-”
“Stop dad,” I said putting my hand up as if I was stopping traffic, “that’s what you’ve said.” I put my hand down and crossed my arms once more. I pursed my lips into a thin whitening line trying to keep the floodgates closed. I had never really told him what I thought about the whole situation in full and I was afraid that if I continued I would do just that.
“Meg, I mean it. I know you have a hard time believing it but I do love you.” He stated with piercing sincerity.
“Maybe you should have thought of that when you were paying a hooker.” My tone had dropped from mildly frustrated to biting cruelty. I was so mad. I had been mad for over three years and it was finally boiling over and out. He had closed his eyes as soon as I said that and hung his head low. I knew I had hit a nerve.
“It’ just-”
“Just what?”
“Hard, Meg,” he looked up at me his eyes wounded, “It so hard.”
“Really?” I stated my sarcasm unmistakable, “Because it was so easy for us when you told us.”
“Meg,” his voice echoed some sense of correction.
“What?” I asked in defiance. Did I not have justifiable reason for acting this way?
“I am trying.” He sounded defensive as he took a few steps towards me.
“So?” the question was rhetorical, “after someone messes up so royally it doesn’t mean just because they try they get off on good behavior.” I shot. I was already reloading before he answered. I wanted to be ready.
“Stop it,” he pleaded with me but I wasn’t nearly ready to be done.
“Why should I?” I stood up, “It happened and now you have to live with it. But it’s not just you, can’t you see that? It’s me too and mom and everyone else.” I was angry and spewing like lava, “It wasn’t just a bad decision on your part that only affected you,” I said pointing an accusatory figure at him, “it affected the way people look at mom too. I hate watching how some people act towards her, Dad. They pity her.” I looked away for a moment then turned back my eyes blazing, “I pity her and that should never, NEVER happen! A child should never pity their parents but I do.” Tears burned behind my eyes and I knew it was only a meter of time. I took a deep breath before I continued, “I don’t understand why she-” I stopped short. I wanted to say it but I couldn’t stoop to that level. I was so angry, and hurt, and bitter, and lost, and lonely. All I wanted was for my daddy to come and wrap his arms around me and tell me that everything would be ok but that man didn’t’ exist any more. I had a dad, a father not a daddy.
“Meg-”
“It’s not fair! I want to be able to act like everything is ok in my family and that I have a stable father but I can’t. People who don’t know look up to you so much and I HATE that I can’t!” I could feel a single solitary tear breach its guard and trickle down my infuriated face.
“Meg,” his tone was sad again. Remorseful and it only made it worse.
“Don’t say that you are sorry again, please. It doesn’t matter if you are sorry or not. It just doesn’t.” and that was the plain and simple truth. Soon the rest of the tears joined their friend falling down my face past my quivering lips and off my chin. I stood there my face contorting in anguish while my tear ducts wore themselves out. He took another step towards me and lifted his hand to pull me to him in a hug but I yanked away.
“No,” I shook my head, “I can’t.” I wiped my tears away and composed my face. I longed for daddy’s wonderfully comforting arms. I wanted to be five again or even twelve before that fateful day when daddy still existed. Yet, the man who stood before me, tears creeping into his dark eyes, was only my father by birth. He had lost the title that I wanted to lavish on him. He had handed it over with the money to the woman on the street corner during the night and I was beginning to think he would never get it back. I stood there shaking my head pronouncing his sentence silently. My heart felt like it would rip a hole in my chest in its attempt to escape the pain the squelched it’s very life. I put my right hand on my chest as I concentrated on just breathing. Every other breath caught in my throat and choked me for a second. Then it burst out resulting in a gasp for more air. I didn’t battle against the tears like I wanted to but I kept a safe distance between my father and myself. Pain was over taking me. I knew this would happen if I told him exactly how I felt. It was so much easier just being mad. Anger didn’t hurt as much but the pain was grown every second. Once again like it had three years ago I could feel my heart breaking under its weight. I let out a little cry in between sobs. I swear I could hear it tearing in two but I didn’t move. I just stared at him. At the man who was the reason for this pain. I grimiced as I watched the man who once was daddy but now was simply a reason to hate and to cry. I sobbed quietly for the death of my daddy and stood back away from the man who had replaced him.
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