My Father.
My father is a person that I will never truly understand. For my entire existence, I have been trying to figure out the complex technicalities that make him the man he is. When I was younger I would spend every waking minute with him; I was his little girl. However, as the years have gone by, I have noticed that the relationship between him and I has struggled. I always thought that it was him; that he did not know how to be a father but what I have come to realize is that the problem is me. I have distanced myself from him in the worst way possible, to the point where he thinks I do not want to talk to him, that I do not want anything to do with him. This of course, is not true, as I would love to have a solid relationship with my father. I have tried to learn about his life; what challenges he faced, what lead him to where he is right now. He is a simple man, who feels the world too much. Losing his sister at a young age in a traumatic freak accident, leaving his mother in ruins. Being the youngest child, and most likely suffering from lack of affection from his own parents. He is the most generous man I know, he will help anybody if they are in need in the blink of an eye. He would do absolutely anything for me. I see the hardships of his life in his tired but content eyes. I see myself in his eyes; my personality, my mind, all come from him. I want to be him when I grow older, however I want to be everything but him. I love him with everything in me, and I know that he feels the same way. With time, I have hope that our parallel personalities with come together to create a relationship where both of us are a team. #writing #creativewriting #art #journalism #english
