Why is it so hard to get a sincere apology? Don’t you see that I’m hurt? Or do you not just care? There has been plenty of times I was scared of you ever since I was a child.
You were always the first one to punish me. Even my grandmother saw that you were rougher with me than you were with my big sister. Do you not want me?
Is there something wrong with your head? Is that the reason you have that look of insanity in your eyes when you’re angry? Is that the reason your rage bursts out unhindered like tsunami wave that washes away all reason?
When the wave hits it hits whoever you’re angry at. You vile beast. Only person who’s safe from you is the one you love. I’ve come to accept that my feelings for you are that of dislike and fear. I’m sorry but that is true.
Meanwhile I was scared of you at times as a child you made that state permanent when you physically hurt me while you were trying to hit my beloved sister’s boyfriend. Again. I only wanted to stop you. I stood between you and the one you tried to hurt. You used to be one of my anchors in this world, and I tried protect that. That’s why I stood between the two of you.
When you hit my sister’s boyfriend, you hit most of what I had believed in as a child. Never before you had been so physical. Never. Not ever. You were so fixated on hitting the boyfriend again that you actually pushed and scratched me to get to him. Even after he had slipped outside behind me. The scariest part of it all was how happily you smiled after the incident. You smiled like you had done the right thing when you hurt physically 2 people and mentally 3 people. You smiled like there’s nothing wrong in the world while you were cutting grass. My poor, poor sister. You were going through so much even without having to see it all.
I got bruised. I got scratched. My nail got chipped to the point of bleeding. But those were only the visible wounds you gave me. Afterwards I haven’t been able to even think about you without feeling anxious for all the wrong reasons. Being near you makes me feel trapped. You make me flinch away. I’ve tried to talk about it, but I’m too scared of making you angry that I can’t speak directly to you about what happened. I know sister’s boyfriend is a tender subject to you. You’d most certainly get angry for being blamed for hitting people. You truly believe you are not in the wrong.
Meanwhile you were made to apologize I never felt like you meant it. You apologized to my sister. You apologized to my sister’s boyfriend. You apologized to me. But you did it because you were made to do it. That’s why it was not meaningful. You didn’t seem sorry for what was done. At most you were sorry for making your children cry and your wife mad at you. I haven’t forgiven you, nor forgotten what happened.
It pains me to see that crazed look in your eyes when my little 1.5 years old nephew touches something he has no permission to touch. Like the speakers in the living room. Or the seeds you are readying for the short summer months. Or a smartphone that is not your work phone. Or your tools.
I’m still waiting for the day you sincerely apologize for the mental scars those insignificant scratches gave me. Why do you feel like you did the right thing when you raised your hand that day. I’m curious why you have that look. Did you inherit it from your father I never met? Why did you hit me? Is that really what you want to pass on to your children?
Father, why?
One day 