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Author Name: Freechrissyd01 0 Comments
Date Added: August 15, 2005 23:08:37 Average Score: (Needs 2)
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Category: Short Stories Add To Favorites | Text Only
 
You Know How It Is


You know how it
is… those silent little girls that you have seen time and time again.  The world can tell who they are by those
sullen looks on their faces.  They hide
behind their big eyes just watching the world go by.  The world knows it’s not their fault.  Hell, you know it too.  But what can you do?  Perhaps the more important question is: What
could you have done?



You could have
stood by and watched a young woman strangle the life out of the child inside of
her.  You could have watched her wrap her
clammy hands around the frail neck of what she used to be.  You wouldn’t have minded, right?  It couldn’t have been any worse than anything
you’ve seen before.  It would have been
just another life gone wrong.  Sure, you
would have gone to the funeral…maybe faked a few tears.  After all, the blonde across the funeral
parlor might pleasure you later if she thinks you’re a sensitive man.



Perhaps I’m not
giving you enough credit.  After all,
look what you did do.  Let’s set aside
all this hypothesizing for a moment.  You
saw a heartbroken young woman and offered your hand.  Let’s get it straight.  You offered your heart.  Who could it hurt?  Now, that’s an interesting question.  You gave of yourself and you found a
friend.  Sure, some people thought it was
wrong.  But, isn’t that always the
case?  Anything we do is bound to piss
off someone.  Yet, the world was
good.  Two friends, at completely
different points in their lives, had found a lasting friendship in the most
unlikely of ways.  He found the child he
had never had; she found the father who would love her unconditionally. 



This is where the
happy ending comes in… or is it?  No.  Life’s not that easy.  People aren’t that nice.  The world isn’t that fair.  Adults wake in the middle of the night
startled by their own breath.  They hear
the rain pounding, the winds whispering, and they fear the abandonment that has
plagued their lives.  They hear the faint
rumblings of a thundercloud and their minds interpret the noise: “WE are not
their fathers…we are NOT their fathers…we are not their FATHERS.” 



There’s no denying
it.  They are not our fathers.  Likewise, we are not their daughters.  What now? 
We lead others to believe that we truly do care about them.  We build relationships with these people.  We think we have found someone worth
loving.  We even go so far as to think we
ourselves are worth loving.  In fact, we
really do begin to love ourselves.  We
take chances.  We actually LIVE our
lives.  We get up off the sidelines and
eagerly interact with the life that has been calling our name since birth.



Yet, like
everything else in this world, that foundation we used to raise ourselves up to
a new level crumbles beneath our feet. 
It wasn’t our own doing.  If so,
it certainly wasn’t intentional.  No one
asks to be forsaken.  No one asks to have
love given unto them only to have that love whisked away whilst they sleep
peacefully.  No one I know anyway.



And so where does
that leave us?  No, father figures of the
world, you are not our fathers.  You
didn’t impregnate the woman who would painstakingly deliver us from her womb
into the world.  You didn’t walk away
from us at a tender age when our whole world revolved around you.  You didn’t shape our entire lives and force
fears to dwell in our soul all because you weren’t man enough to be called
“Daddy” by someone who needed you. 



You did, however,
love us.  You helped shape us into the
people we are today.  You can’t deny
that.  We won’t deny that.  You offered us those things that we felt that
we had been denied our entire lives.  You
filled a gap in our hearts, in our souls, in our lives.  You made us feel that we did the same for
you.  You made us feel important.  You made us feel needed.  You made us feel that someone in the world
gave a damn about us.  Our fathers never
did that.  They didn’t promise us the
world and then walk away.  They just
walked away.  It may have hurt us, but at
least they were honest with us from the beginning.  They gave us life and left us to grow up
without them.  You, on the other hand, promised
us love, unconditional love at that, and…well who knows? 



The story has been
written and rewritten throughout human existence.  This one will be no different.  I can hate you.  I can learn from what you have taught
me.  I can make the same mistake: loving
and trusting another man who claims to love me forever.  I can hate myself.  More than likely, I will question
myself.  I will think I have done
something wrong.  Yet, I will get over
it.  I will realize that I did nothing to
deserve this except for to follow your lead. 
I will hate you for a while, because though you are not my father, you
played the part very well.  You offered a
portion of yourself to me and you walked away. 
You had a hard act to follow.  You
waltzed in, acted out his part with a twist of your own (making me think you
genuinely cared), and promptly tangoed out the door saying to all men of the
world who dance along with you, “We are not their fathers.”  Well, congratulations!  I applaud your performance.  You had us all fooled. 



Now, if I may be
excused, I must tend to my heart.  Do you
hear that hiss in the parting silence? 
Ah yes, listen closely.  “We are
not their daughters.”  Here are some
earplugs.  Painful remarks like that tend
to echo in your ears for years to come.


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