Thoughts that have come across my mind.
Random way of thinking about my dad.
I think about my dad often. Memories of good times, and not so good times. With my birthday coming up, I’ve been thinking more about him.
Like how EVERY year he would miss my birthday. Now, when I say miss, I mean he claimed it was a different day. For example, when I turned 16 on the 13th, my dad called me the 16th and told me. He would argue with me that my birthday was on the 16th or 23rd.
Thinking about that brings a thought to my head. I just shake my head cause it’s one tiny detail.
My mother told me a story about how my dad called me the wrong name, my first whole month. Which, again I tell myself that he wasn’t in the room when I was born. He was an over the road truck driver. He did show up sometime after, never told what besides he double parked his semi.
My thoughts go back to a dark place. I then ask myself “did my dad even want a daughter?” Then my thoughts go nuts.
It seems from about 12 years old that I got treated differently. I was 15 years old, and I was helping my dad with hanging drywall. He told me I was going to end up like my mother and be pregnant before I graduate.
