Some of you may know my dad, and to some of you he is a legend. If he knew I was writing about him on the internet he would probably be livid. He’s one of those people that doesn’t love the idea of his photo being on the internet forever, or having people know too much. So, don’t tell him. My dad is a good man. I’ve always thought of him as the person that takes care of things. When my biological father died I was 1, my brothers were much older, and my Dad was there to take care of things in whatever way was needed. I mean, that’s a pretty great first impression. He has always been my dad, there is no denying that. There was and is nothing that was broken that he couldn’t fix. He is smart, he is capable, he is generous, but one of the things he isn’t is emotional. Let me stop right here and tell you I’m not sure how he dealt with me, one of the most emotional children in the history of ever. I know I was a pain in the ass especially in high school, and he and I didn’t always get along because I felt like he didn’t understand me. I certainly didn’t understand him. I’m sure in his own way he was trying to understand me but what teen girl is in touch with that quite yet?
Through the trying times in my life, my dad hasn’t always been able to deliver the hallmark moments you see on TV, or read about in books. He’s definitely not the dad in that gum commercial that folded all of those paper cranes out of gum wrappers (then we all cried). He was a great dad, taught me a lot about hard work, how to drive a stick shift, how to solve for x, and that succeeding in life is the only option. What he didn’t always have was empathy, or he couldn’t vocalize it. For example: when I called him to tell him what happened with my ex husband, he said “I told you so.” He said I should have waited to get married, he said he knew he wasn’t the right person for me. All the things you don’t need your dad to say to you when you call to tell him the person you thought you loved most in this world actually sucks. All I wanted him to say was: “I’m so sorry, I will kill him”. I realized a long time ago that my dad would never be that dad that knows what to say when I cry, or go through these wild emotions.
He has his moments though. Last week on the phone we talked for awhile. Sometimes our conversations are trivial, about the weather or what not. Sometimes we talk about things of substance. I’m sure everyone’s dad is like that, but I don’t know. We talk about the weather more than any other subject most likely. On our call last week we talked about my move. How it was going, how I was feeling. Even talked about how dating was going—not well mind you, I’ll write about that soon. He said something though that really reminded me that he is that supportive, loving Dad. Just in a different way. He said “Don’t look back” when we got off the phone. Of course I cried but it was right when we hung up so I don’t think he heard me.
I needed that reminder. Because last week I almost called my ex husband. DON’T FUCKING AS ME WHY. I know it’s stupid. I had that dramatic feeling where I thought “no one understands me like he does”. All I wanted was to call and hear his voice, have a Christmas miracle happen where he apologizes for everything he did, tells me he loves me and we magically have a life together again. You know how mad it makes me to even type that? I can’t lie to you though, I won’t lie to you. Then what is the point of this? I wanted to wrap my arms around that piece of crap dude, tell him we can work it out as long as he loves me, and skip off on the yellow brick road. I thought about the last time I kissed him, and how it still gave me butterflies. That is so fucked up. (As Long As You Love Me: Backstreet Boys playing in the background) I think that stupid Selena Gomez Song “I’d Go Back To You” played on the radio too many times that week or something. Loneliness gets the best of us sometimes, but you have to just say NO BITCH. (In this case it was to myself)
Here’s the deal people, it happens. You can’t beat yourself up. Lucky us though, my Dad comes in clutch when he least realizes it to remind us “Don’t Look Back” before I call my poopy ex-husband. Or before you compromise your self-worth to call yours. Nothing back there is tempting enough to get me to derail off the beautiful life I am creating for myself. Looking back would dim that bright ass light I work so hard to keep shining each and every day.