Although I hated him then, and loved him before I knew better, I would be willing to dro it all. Let him be my "dad" and just live that way. The happy family life and all that crap.
I can't do it.
I know that everyone has flaws. In fact, I'm Christian. I'm supposed to forgive, and turn the other cheek. Forgive and be forgiven, they say. I do, really. I've forgiven the bulies, although I never forget.
Let me revise that. I forget. I forget my friends, I forget fun. I forget the faces of those I've once cared for. I forget the faces of several of those I don't care for. I forget almost everything normal. I have even forgotten events that I should have remembered forever. Deams in real life events, which should have defined my childhood. I even forgot the first seven years of my life, but for maybe three things that tell me it will someday return.
I do not forget what my enemies did to me. Still, I have forgiven them. If they wanted to be friends suddenly, out of nowhere returning to my life, I would give them all another chance. I wouldn't totally trust them for a long time. I would be careful. But they ould be given a chance.
Even he.... even he would get a chance. To be my stepdad, and be mentioned as just being my dad. Family. Family needs no "step" on the way. But he won't quit. He entertains his own ideas and emotions, his own desires and hunger, but he won't entertain ours. His family.
There isn't food in the house. Well, there is, but it's nothing we like. Only good for him. We aren't poor. He just buys dinner the night of, and snacks only when necessary. Ice cream is always in the freezer, but it's usually something no one but he likes. My sister and I buy our own snacks to make up for this, and Mom chips in what she has. She makes $800 a month. Her whole check goes to our rent. Stepdaddy was supposed to cover everything else. That was the deal. He doesn't. He expects $100.00 to cover groceries for four adult-sized people for over three weeks. Mom had to pay the rest. Which comes from rent. He complains that she isn't keeping up her deal because she can't cover rent. It's his fault.
Last week, we were in church (first time in a long while) and someone was getting baptized. That was once me. I rememer the ceremony for it, and how nervous I was. I remember it well.
He laughed. He made a joke about their names and laughed. The whole time they were up there. I could tell the woman in front of us heard, and was trying to ignore us. She looked ready to turn around at once point, and thought better of it. I hated him for it. Had that been me up there, and I saw in the crowd someone laughing at me (and the pastor made them look into the crowd to their new religious family) I think I would cry of the humiiliation and pain of it.
I confronted him later. Told him how it had hurt me that he did that. He tried to joke it away, but I resented that and didn't let him slide. I wanted to hear him say he didn't mean to hurt anyone, and that he hadn't realized he may have. He didn't . Instead, he lectured me about how no one could dare say he wasn't a great person becaue he's done good before, and that no one would tell him when to and not to laugh. No one would rule his humor. He forgot to mention emotion. He just said everyone was different, as if that justified it. He told me not to think I could teach him morality.
Perfection, isn't he?
Somehow, I can't seem to forgive him this. I try, but I can't. I hate him in a way of no other. Not murderious hate, or even any physical hate. It is emotional, and I shudder whenever he gets close. I do not want to be his family.
I would be willing and ready to end that hate, if only he admitted imperfection. If he would try, and even if he failed, so long as he admitted and tried. Honesty.
I suppose I had to get that out of my system. I can't tell anyone here. It'd get back to him. Mom and I share this secret, and sis sometimes. Like recently.
He had this lamp for over a year now. Three light floor lamp. Mobile necks to the lights. My sis was moving one of the necks recently, and the wire frayed or something. Made the smell of smoke. We told him, like good little girls, and he told her she would have to pay for it.
A 14 year old girl, paying him $50 to replace a lamp that was a year old and was supposed to be moved like that. I looked online to Wal Mart and Target. A lamp exactly like it, but with two more lights, was only $30. I won't let him take more than that from her. No 50 bucks. Just another of his failures.
I do not claim perfection, but at least I'll admit when I'm wrong (although sometimes only in my own mind, for safety). I would be thrilled to hear him once admit that much of himself.
Perhaps I am just bitter.
For now, I'll end my rant on him, and find another. Expect something new, soon enough. Old to me, new to you.
Perhaps my past.
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