when I was born
he was a little more than
disappointed.
wanted a boy more than
anything,
but he settled with a girl,
cradling me in his arms as he said,
"just remember, I'll
always be smarter than you."
he swallowed his disappointment as
I
grew old enough to toddle around
the house.
played Disney princesses with
me,
never complaining when I made him
be the villain, or when
he had better things to
do,
like paying bills or taking care of
my baby brothers.
when I was five, I skipped off to
school,
smiling as I waved goodbye to him
from the big metal doors.
I was always top of my class, but
that was
somehow never good enough for
him.
"just remember, I'll
always be smarter than you."
as I grew up, his disappointment
became
more obvious, though he tried to
hide it.
he worked late, and spent his
nights coaching
baseball and soccer, or playing
video games with
my brothers, never bothering to
come to parent observation night at dance,
and falling asleep during ballet
recitals.
when I was fourteen, I fell in love
(with a girl, mind you),
dizzy and in too deep to realize my
mistakes.
his disappointment turned into
utter disgust
as he browsed through every message
I had ever sent her.
"just remember, I'll
always be smarter than you."
now those tiny bumps and bruises of
my childhood
have morphed into ugly red
scars.
I sob, scream, cry, defy.
he puts his head in his
hands,
wondering where he went
wrong.
0
reply
OutrightAwesome · 1 decade ago
1
reply
Some people need love more than others. And some people need understanding.