A stranger among us

Monday, December 20, 2004

This is a topic I really don't like talking about (yes, another one). It's my father. I feel like I just don't know him, at all. I feel he puts on this routine for us everyday meanwhile there is someone underneath, somewhere inside, hiding. Hiding from what? I don't know, I've never known and sometimes I just don't want to know. And who is this person? I don’t know that either, just that I don't know him, he's a foreigner, a dark, shadowy figure that hardly ever appears.

The point is that my father's a stranger to me. And it's terrible having a stranger in your own home, living with you, eating with you, acting like everything is aright, when you know it's all quite wrong. He's betrayed us and lied to us, on several occasions. Today I found out he had done it again. You know, this time I wasn't even that upset. When my mother confronted him at the dinner table, it was surprisingly uneventful. He denied it, changed the subject and we kept on eating.

I recently told a friend (whose dad passed away when he was still very young) that there were worse things than not having a father. For instance, having one. At least I know I'm not the same and I'm sure I never will be the same to my children. I want them to know me and know who I am (and who I was, if pertinent). I don't want them to have to live with a stranger in their own homes.

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