"Wow,you must hate all men then!
Men!?
I've tried to imagine my dad as a child, a teenager.
But fails to bring that image up. He must have born a dad.How else could he do it so effortlessly?
He couldn't have been a baby, or a child- clueless.
He must have been this perfect, he must have.
How else could he love so flawlessly?
I love the way my dad loves.
After a long day at work,when he returns home, he always remembers my favourite books.
Everyday, he'll bring home donuts,cuz he knows how I enjoy eating them.
How could he have been a child, when he could be a perfect father?
Every time I say I am not hungry, he'd insist I eat a small portion of his own.
When I refuse, he'd feed me.
One.
One more.
And then the final one.
Okay maybe one more?
No dad!! I am on a diet.I want to look pretty.
"But you are beautiful" - he'd say.
I like your hair long -he'd say, when my mom suggests cutting my split ends.
I had long hair.
But you liked me when I had to cut it all down.
I like bald heads too- you'd say.
Hair's gonna grow again.
You always seemed tough and strong. I never saw you cry.
But you never came in when I was taking my chemo. You see,I knew you could be scared too.
I'd feel guilty, for forcing you to spend your retirement money on my medicines. You always wanted to come back home and live well..
You couldn't, because of me.
You had to spend it all on me.
But I never heard you complain.
You always stayed whenever I tried to hug you, you never said you were busy when I showed you love.
You'd listen whenever I tried to talk.
You taught me how men in love act, so I don't settle for the bare minimum.
But she's just a kid- you'd say when someone sent a marriage proposal for me.
I was 25.
You cleaned your own plates,your own clothes.
You never treated mom like a second-grade citizen.
You said you hated dogs, but then get super upset when they fall sick and refuse to eat food.
You don't demand anything in return.
It must have been in you all along.To be a dad.
That must've been your destiny.
When you complain about neck pains and muscles sores, I worry a little too much.
I dread the day you'll be gone.
I believe I'll never recover if you leave. Where will I find the love again? The hands that feed me everytime I refuse food,again?
I fear you're the only one that'll ever truly love me,with all my imperfections, my silly quircks.
Hate men?
How would I hate men, when a man taught me how to love.
Don't leave yet.
I'd want to hug you a little longer, and not let go!
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