Waiting for the cashier who worked for Burger King to call the number on my receipt, I stood off to the side observing the people around me. There were moms waiting in line with screaming toddlers and couples waiting to eat lunch together. Still scanning the crowd, my eyes focused on a man standing in line with his three school aged daughters. He made sure they ordered their food, helping his two preteen looking daughters and their little sister fill their Burger King cups up with soda. For a few seconds jealousy invaded my heart because these girls have a father to spend time with and look up to. My mom is perfect for being a good mom, also filling in the father role. Sometimes I feel angry from my real dad coming in and out of my life.
I hate referring to the man who helped conceive me as “dad”. I even gave him a nickname: “The Spermanator.” My mom always tells me not to call him that because even though he is barely there for me he is still my father. This man has hurt my heart so many times that I’m not even sure I can love him. It is a shame when your own father does not take the time to learn your birthday or know how old you are. Seven years ago when I was in the sixth grade he called me and asked me what I wanted for Christmas, and I told him that I wanted a cd (the artist I can’t remember). On Christmas day he picked my brother and I up from our mom’s house and took us over to his house. When we got to his apartment he pointed out the gifts under the tree that were ours. I noticed that my wrapped up present was too big to be a cd. A couple of minutes later my brother and I opened up our gifts to find out that he had bought us fake leather coats from K-mart. I was so hurt that I wanted to cry, he did not get me or my brother what we had asked for. Instead he had gotten my other brother and sister whom by the way are the kids of his wife making us half brother and sister, toy trucks, a computer, games, and other electronical devices. He asked us did we like our gifts and instead of telling the truth my brother and I lied to him telling him yes.
My mom always tells me to make sure that I marry the right kind of man who is always there for his children. Since the man who helped make me keeps appearing and disappearing in and out of my life I have gotten to the point where I have refused to believe he exist. My brother had stopped talking to him for a while but finally gave back in to him. This man does not know me like a real father should, he does not know my weaknesses or strengths like my mom does.
I believe that every child should have a father in their life. When someone who is supposed to be your parent keeps disappearing in and out of your life then there is an issue going on. If I could spill my guts out to this stranger who barely knows me I would tell him how he hurt me mentally and how he’s caused me anger every time I think about him. In the mean time, I will look up to my mother as a father also for filling in his role for which he has done half the job on.
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