All the Best Cowboys…

…Have Daddy Issues

Quote: "Sons are for fathers the twice-told tale."  -Victoria Secunda

 My house is a desperate kind of quiet.

My dad is in San Francisco on business. My mom and sister in Florida for my sister’s cheerleading competition. I’m home alone, the way I like it. At least I usually do. Except I’ve begun to realize I feel alone quite often. Walking the college campus as I finish up my last few finals, ipod in ears I realize I don’t have a single positive memory at this place. Or any memory at all really. Just days that came and went bringing me to where I am now. One year ago I wrote an entry after I finished my first semester of college, stating that nothing significant had happened in the past three months. I can’t say that same about this semester, thigns happened, however few and far between they were. This time I can’t recall anything good that happened. The past three months were a tease. Full of almost’s and not quites.

If anything I’ve finally admitted to myself that has been in the back of my head for years. I don’t trust my father. It kills me becuase I love him and I know he loves my mom, I’m just not sure he’s faithful. I can’t ever say anything to my mother. There’s no way I could put us through that again. I have no proof, I never will. I just have to accept he loves us. Believe it is just a friendship, however twisted it may be. It’s cost me too much in the past. I cannot let this consume me.

I’m listening to Signs by Bloc Party, attempting to relate it to my life. I have no girl of interest at the moment. I find myeslf looking into the past. Partly because I don’t even have a prospect right now. It’s deeper than that. I think of Danielle because I know she’s grieving. She buried her father 2 weeks ago. It’s strange but I feel as if being around someone who’s sadness is greater than mine would comfort me. I remember Kate and the way I hurt her. I want to explain why I pulled away, how much of it has to do with my parents. My fear that she would make me question outloud my father’s fidelity. She’d thought so highly of them when we were 16, her own parents had been muddling through a divorce then. She knew me so well, knew I would have my doubts. I was so terrified she’d bring them to the surface I pulled away anytime we came close to getting back together, with little explanation.

I still flashback to Halloween with Kristina. The secrets we shared. I’d never told anyone that I still didn’t trust my father, never even saying it out loud until that night. "I don’t think he did," She’d said sincerely. I’d needed to hear that so badly, even if she didn’t have the full story or know my parents particularily well. We’re apart now, her choice not mine. I like to think she has her own lonely nights where she remembers I’m the only person who knows her dark secret. I want to scream at her for hurting me while crying on her shoulder.

I got off the phone with my father not even half an hour ago. He was calling from his trip to check up on me. Make sure I was eating right and doing well on my finals. He asked about my week and what he was missing in New Jersey.

He loves me. He would do anything for me.

I have to remember that.