Love Is A Battlefield
I got another letter from Dad. In response to my note in the Father's Day card I sent. It was not what I had hoped for, but what I sort of expected."Dismayed, disgusted, and revolted."
"I loathe what you say you've become."
He did say he loves me. So there is that.
And so I sat in my chair in my living room reading the short, terse, brutal, letter over and over again.
The irony (or whatever) is that we still talk on the phone. In a civil, polite fashion. He won't say he loves me, but he still emails me. In an oh-so-typical fashion, we're only expressing what we really feel in letters. Not in email or in words that are actually spoken aloud. Emails and spoken words are used only to exchange information about the weather, jobs, status of relatives, etc. Nothing important. Just the details of our lives, but not the meaning of our lives.
In reality, he doesn't know who I really am. Not the real me atleast. I've only shared with him portions of my life. So he just has this partial picture of who I am. And I know this is partly my fault, but at the same time, shouldn't he be asking: "Trey, when are you going to find someone to love?" (And yes I went gender neutral on purpose) "Trey, are you happy with what you are doing?" "What are your hopes, your dreams, your goals." He's never asked those questions, and I've never volunteered answers to them. I'm not even sure if I konw the answers.
Partly because I've been too busy living life to really enjoy it sometimes. I admit that I use the excuse of so much to do, in so little time, to prevent me from actually taking the time to really look at what I'm doing, to figure out who I am, things like that.
And unfortunately I think it's too late to share those answers with my Dad now. He's made it perfectly clear that he doesn't want to hear anything about my "lifestyle." But in reality I think he doesn't want to hear anything about me. Anything that doesn't fit into his mindset of who or what I am. Because it is, afterall, all about him.
Okay, my head hurts, and my heart hurts, so I'm bailing on this subject for awhile. More later, I'm sure.
posted by Trey @ 9:22 PM
1 Comments:
Maybe some of the anger I directed at my parents *was* helpful. I used to compare being militantly *out*, to hitting them with a two-by-four. I’ve changed my mind. I think you should start hitting your dad two-by-fours, metaphorically speaking.
I’ve had this card in my desk, waiting for a reason to use it. I’d like to send it to you so you can send it to your dad. There’s an awful drawing of a dog, above which is this quote:
“Sometimes You Just need to take a nap and get over it.
Maura Stuard – Age 8”
Keep your head up,
Vig
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