'Cause It's All In My Heaaaaad
I remember when I was younger, I had taken many pictures from the family photo albums of my father. I taped them all up on my wall and cried so hard when I looked at them. It was around the time my father wasn't present in my life, and I wanted him to be so bad. I remember having to fold the clothes one night, and I picked up my stepdad's white work t-shirt. I lifted it up to my nose, but it didn't smell like my daddy. I cried for a long time.
I used to crawl into my parent's bed and cuddle up under my dad's arm and listen to him breathe when he slept. He always smelled like his cologne he ALWAYS wore. I could hear his heartbeat, and when he really dozed off, I could hear his loud snoring. One time I was so annoyed by it, I took my little 5 year old fingers and pinched the bridge of my dad's nose to try to get him to stop snoring. He made a choking sound, and I was so scared that I had killed him. But he continued to breathe.
He used to tell me stories of his childhood when I slept beside him. We always called them 'boy stories'. I would look up at him in the darkness with wonder, curiosity, and humor. I really loved them and I loved him. He was my hero and I missed him so bad when he left.
He used to take me and my sister to his work with him sometimes. He was supervisor of a construction company, and we would always have so much fun waking up at 5 in the morning, watching him shave, and travel two hours to his work with him. I always loved it. This one time, my sister and I made a pallet in the floor of my parent's bedroom to remind my dad to wake us up to take us to work with him. When he woke up in a daze the next morning, he accidentally stepped on my sister's head! It was so hilarious.
When I got older, I cut myself a lot for his absence. I cried and cut away at my arm and leg. I was so sad, and I wished so many times things would work and I would have my daddy back.
My dad became an alcoholic, and one time he came from his hometown to take my siblings and I out to the lake for a getaway. This was after he and my mother had separated and he had moved. Things were going well at first. We all went to the mall and explored. Then we went to the boat rentals, rented a pontoon, and headed for the lake. We were all having a lot of fun and it was great. Then my dad started drinking, and as we were going under the bridge, the top of the pontoon got torn off because my dad was too drunk to remember to put the visor down.
We left the lake to go back to the hotel room, where my brother and I went to the outside pool to swim more. My sister came down from the room to the pool and was crying really hard. She told us to come with her and pack up our things. I didn't understand why and I was worried. We made it up to the room to find my dad in a recliner in a dark corner mumbling something. We started to pack, and he told us each individually that he hated us and that hell would freeze over before he saw us again. It was like my mind exploded and I couldn't think. My daddy telling me he hates me. Where's the boy stories, the work trips, the camping trips, and times when you were there for me and loved me? You used to get so mad when they bullied me at school and you were always there to take up for me and take away the bad things. Why do you hate me now? How could you say that? I remember being woken up by you every morning, pinching my sides and legs saying 'the fleas are bitin the fleas are bitin!'. Where did you go?
I remembered all of this and it came to my mind suddenly tonight. I don't know why, but I wanted to share. I don't really care about sympathy, because all of this is done now. I guess I just wanted to revisit this place in my head and see how much of it is left.