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deplusenplus“I’m getting married.”
“You’re what?”
Square your shoulders, don’t get defensive. He’s just your father. “Married.”
Still, he’s bigger than you and looking down at you like he always often does. You have that picture where he was lifting you up high above his head and smiling at you. Where did that go? That picture … “You’re getting married?”
“Yeah, Dad.”
He’s quiet and withdrawn. Eyebrows come together, “you’re from me. What could possibly love you?” Almost as if he’s asking that all genuine, like what could ever love him.
Fuck him. He doesn’t matter. You’re fucking fine without him.
“You’re what?”
Square your shoulders, don’t get defensive. He’s just your father. “Married.”
Still, he’s bigger than you and looking down at you like he always often does. You have that picture where he was lifting you up high above his head and smiling at you. Where did that go? That picture … “You’re getting married?”
“Yeah, Dad.”
He’s quiet and withdrawn. Eyebrows come together, “you’re from me. What could possibly love you?” Almost as if he’s asking that all genuine, like what could ever love him.
Fuck him. He doesn’t matter. You’re fucking fine without him.
