Today I had an argument with my 81-year-old father.
My father and mother separated when I was only 4. I lived with a psycho-mom up until the age of 10. Then I lived in Europe with my retired grandparents until age 14. When I returned to America, I was told that my father was found. Mother really hid us. I was taught to hate him and I did.
Years later, my mother’s psychotic ways made it impossible for me to stay. I moved in with my dad, when my hate for him still occupied my heart. I graduated high school and off to college. I quit college and found an apartment as I worked for my father who I still hated through no fault of his own.
My father later got married. He had two sons and, although I was never pushed aside by anyone, I felt as though I was not a part of this family.
So, I left and never turned back.
16 years later I saw my 2 brothers on Facebook and there was a very tearful reunion.
As I was divorced now, I understood my dad. The hatred for my father was gone, sometime after my mother passed away.
As the years went by, I visited my dad, my stepmom and newly found brothers on a regular basis. My father always asked me about me being single.
Every time for the next few years he would ask the same questions;
“How’s your love life?”
“Do you have any new romances in your life?”
“Do you have anyone new in your life?”
“Have you met anyone at your new job?”
“You know, I got married when I was 46. There’s still hope for you.”
“You know, your grandfather got married when he was 53. There’s still hope for you.”
“You know, my tenant upstairs thinks you are quite good looking.”
Every single time I went to visit my father, he cycles through one of the same statements above. It drove me insane. It got to the point where the older of my half-brother joined in. He started with lectures. I shrugged it off for years until a few days ago when I stopped him and started to yell at him while we went out to a nearby mall.
He asked the same question yet again. I returned with, “What’s with the questions? Do you think I’m a faggot or something? What is wrong with me? What should I do in my life to make you happy?” I yelled and yelled at my dad trying to get into his head that I was single and I’m not going to change that.
The next day, he asked again. I could not believe it. Didn’t he hear me say before?
I got home and the next day sent him about 7 of my Facebook posts. Then I texted him;
—–
Me: I sent you a few articles I wrote. Show them to Billy (not real name). Maybe one day you and him will not call me a faggot any more.
My Dad: Don’t be ridiculous
Me: There is a lecture from Billy almost every time. And you constantly toss hints at me every single time. Don’t you know it hurts me every time you ask me about my “Love Life” or “Romantic Interests”?
My Dad: Ok
Me: I get this all the time from people that nag me constantly about me being and remaining single. I really don’t care that Mary (tenant) thinks I’m “good looking”. Does that mean she wants to leave her current man for me? Does that mean that I can now view myself as good looking because some Asian woman says so? You can’t keep poking at a tiger and expect it not to lash out after the 100th time.
I had enough psychopathic girlfriends that wanted me to be their own personal provider for everything they could ever imagine. It’s insane. You want me to return to that insanity?
Yes, I know, they always tell me, “Not all women are like that” and I’m at fault for picking them.
So, I will not pick them any longer.
I stopped talking to the people that nag me about being single. Who really wants to be around people that nag all the time?
I do not want to do that with you.
I’ve been with way too many women in my life.
I only wanted one
I’m not jumping into that fire of insanity again.
Women with kids from multiple men with a history of abortions and a few STDs are not for me.
I’ve had it up to my neck in entitled women that expect the world from me.
I was never put on this earth to be a woman’s sole meal ticket.
My Dad: kay there’s not much to say except to say I won’t mention it again
Me: Please.
———
I wrote this article then texted the following;
Me: I’m sorry I blew up like that. It’s a sensitive issue for me.
My Dad: No problem, John we all get to blow off once in a while no problem at all
Me: I’m very sorry I did. I’m very proud that we have these small amounts of time together. I don’t want it to end.
My Dad: It ends when I pass on. Then you have Bobby, Billy and Maria (his wife). No sweat
Me: There will be time.