I’ve posted a couple times about how my father and I don’t get along. Well, today the following exchange took place:
Dad: I’m going to clean out the house in February, so let me know if there’s anything you want me to keep.
Me: Actually, I want to get the Precious Moments that mom didn’t take when she left.
Dad: Okay, just tell her that if she wants them she can make me my favorite dinner and mail it to me.
Me (thinking he’s joking): Um… no.
Dad (not joking): No??
Me: Dad, they’re hers. She shouldn’t have to GIVE you anything for them.
Dad: Well, if you’re not willing to ask her, then I’ll just break all of them and throw them out.
Me: Fuck you.
That’s a little condensed (there was a little more meaningless stuff before the “I’m going to break all of them”) but all that matters is there. There was a lot of arguing after that when I noticed booze on my dad’s breath.
So, tonight, I sit in my bedroom for what might be the last time. I feel like a teenager in an afterschool special, but I’m a college senior who’s going to start a career in less than a year.
I’m not upset. I almost see this as something that was inevitable. He was going to buy me a computer. That’s out the window. He was going to help support me while I was away on internship. That’s not going to happen, either. But I don’t care. This isn’t about money or possessions. It’s about a relationship that can’t take any more strife and a man who’s unwilling to compromise or listen to his son’s feelings.
I may never see my dad again, and I’m not even upset.
To quote Calvin: “What a stupid world.”