I realized I never had a father.
Actually, I did have a father, he exists, he raised me, and I have his last name. I always thought of him as a guy who tried his best, but today, talking to my mother, I came to the conclusion that he was simply a jerk, and I'm probably what kept my mother tied to him for so long.
My mother and older sister were reminiscing about my father, who passed away two years ago. I had just left school when he died, and I ended up hearing some unpleasant things. Our house was never the best; it had terrible leaks, broken flooring, and it took years to replace the roof tiles. I always thought of it as a lack of money, but the reality is that my father simply didn't want to do anything for the family. My sister slept for years in a room full of leaks, and my father refused to fix the ceiling of her room, which is now my room. He also didn't contribute much to the household expenses since my sister started working; she was 17 at the time. My grandmother never liked that my parents got married; she and my mother didn't get along, and my mother lived in my grandmother's garage for the first few years of her marriage to my father.
My father never took or picked up my sister from school, but he always took the daughter of one of his business partners. He basically wasn't a good father to her, but things were different with me, and I always thought it was because my father liked me. It turns out that my mother made it clear that he should be the one to take care of me, since she raised my older sister alone. We are 16 years apart. Knowing this, I stopped to think, and I really have no idea why I was born. My parents hated each other, my sister was always sidelined, and they didn't even try to pretend they were a functional family. We never had family outings. Recently, I realized I don't have any photos with my grandmother. This made me wonder: did she really like me, or did she just have me in her house out of obligation? There aren't any photos of my father holding me when I was a baby either, and I only have photos of my graduation with him. Did he also only do everything he did for me out of obligation? I've always been an expensive person because of my medication. I have epilepsy, and the medicine I take isn't cheap, not to mention the tests. But it's a condition my father had, and his father too; you could say it's hereditary. He took care of me when I had seizures, took me to the doctor, paid for my tests and medications. I see that as love, but if he truly despised his own family so much, was that love? What was my purpose in being born? Why was I born 16 years after my sister? To live a miserable and unhappy life and finally realize that my family was never what I thought? That my father never loved me? That he only tolerated me?
My mother and older sister were reminiscing about my father, who passed away two years ago. I had just left school when he died, and I ended up hearing some unpleasant things. Our house was never the best; it had terrible leaks, broken flooring, and it took years to replace the roof tiles. I always thought of it as a lack of money, but the reality is that my father simply didn't want to do anything for the family. My sister slept for years in a room full of leaks, and my father refused to fix the ceiling of her room, which is now my room. He also didn't contribute much to the household expenses since my sister started working; she was 17 at the time. My grandmother never liked that my parents got married; she and my mother didn't get along, and my mother lived in my grandmother's garage for the first few years of her marriage to my father.
My father never took or picked up my sister from school, but he always took the daughter of one of his business partners. He basically wasn't a good father to her, but things were different with me, and I always thought it was because my father liked me. It turns out that my mother made it clear that he should be the one to take care of me, since she raised my older sister alone. We are 16 years apart. Knowing this, I stopped to think, and I really have no idea why I was born. My parents hated each other, my sister was always sidelined, and they didn't even try to pretend they were a functional family. We never had family outings. Recently, I realized I don't have any photos with my grandmother. This made me wonder: did she really like me, or did she just have me in her house out of obligation? There aren't any photos of my father holding me when I was a baby either, and I only have photos of my graduation with him. Did he also only do everything he did for me out of obligation? I've always been an expensive person because of my medication. I have epilepsy, and the medicine I take isn't cheap, not to mention the tests. But it's a condition my father had, and his father too; you could say it's hereditary. He took care of me when I had seizures, took me to the doctor, paid for my tests and medications. I see that as love, but if he truly despised his own family so much, was that love? What was my purpose in being born? Why was I born 16 years after my sister? To live a miserable and unhappy life and finally realize that my family was never what I thought? That my father never loved me? That he only tolerated me?
18-21New
