Haven’t spoken to my dad in a week. I don’t know if I want to. I don’t know if I like him. I don’t even know who he is anymore.
I love him. But at the same time he represents everything I’m afraid of, everything I loathe. I miss him. I love him. I despise him.
He once told me that anything I believed, anything I was would be ok. That he would understand. That was when he was an alcoholic and an atheist and everything he is ashamed of now.
And then he found God.
And then he lost me.
