Today was hard. I waited all day, with still no word from my father. I walked around downtown and along the walkway on the pathway along the river. It was very nice today, sunshine and warmth, the opposite of yesterday. There is too much time for me to do nothing but think. I think about my life, about where I have come from and how it has brought me here. The years of my life not knowing and hoping are nearly gone. I began to become very discontent with not having heard from him by this point. So I went to where I figured I might be able to learn something about him. The local bar. It was empty except for three or four guys who looked like they might be around his age. But after sitting there and drinking a couple of beers I got the feeling that it wasn’t going to work. The men there were all pretty boisterous and intoxicated, so I didn’t bother asking them any questions.
I went back out to drive around for a while. It was mid day and the thought of him not being in town again started to creep in more. It had been nearly 24hrs since he had heard I wanted to talk to him. This made me start to look for his house. I didn’t come all this way not to see him. I stopped by a nearby gas station, and asked for directions to the outlining area that I knew he lived in. Turns out the guy behind the counter lives in the same neighborhood and actually drew me a map, and when he asked who I was looking for he was kind enough to tell me which house was theirs. Wow, small town people really have no concept of privacy. Nobody here has even enquired who I was before giving me all kinds of information. The girl at my hotel even told me that she used to go to school with one of my brothers when I asked her if she knew him. She never even asked who I was. I bet most of them don’t even look their doors at night. Ignorance is bliss. Anyways, I drove by my father’s house. It’s huge, with a three car garage and a boat. I saw his wife tending to some trees in the yard as I drove by. There was only a car home, and I knew my father drives a truck. Seeing someone home gave me back some contentment that he was in town. So I continued to wait, and drive, and wait…
That feeling soon started to come back to me. I had driven by his home a few times, and by 6:00 PM his truck was in the driveway. My time in town is getting shorter, so by 8:00 PM I decided to hell with me trying to do things in a convenient manner for him. Trying to make things easier on him, to help his home life. He has never tried making anything easy on me. I called his house and he answered. I told him that I was calling because I hadn’t heard from him, and needed to talk to him. Once again he asks me what I want. I told him I was in town and wanted to see him. He was quiet for a minute. “Where do you expect this to go?” He asks me. Is his guy that insensitive?
“I don’t expect it to go anywhere.” I said. “It’s been along time, and I don’t believe that your opinion on this situation has changed much. But I think we can sit down together and have a coffee like two adults.”
He asked me how long I was in town and why. So I told him I was here for a few days, and I came to see him. “Where are you staying?” He asks. I told him my hotel and room number.
“Well I have to work tomorrow, but maybe I’ll come by there around five or six.” He offers. MAYBE??! And how about a definite time? I was only thinking these, but I didn’t come here to be confrontational. That being said, if he doesn’t show up tomorrow I will go to his house, and he’ll have to deal with me there. I have a right to know what he looks like, and if I have to knock and his door and wait until it opens to see that, I will.
It was left at that. I sat in the lobby for about half an hour trying to calm down. 29 years of emotion running through my veins. This is the second time I have been left literally shaking after having conversations with rejecting father figures. Shit. My head is pounding. I thought about going back out to the bar tonight, but I just don’t have it in me. I’m too stressed to play.
So here I sit typing away. Contemplating how tomorrow will go. I am nervous and scared, and at the same time angry and confused. Why do I put myself through this? Why do I care so bad about having a father? I guess it was the false hope that kept me going when I was growing up. I figured that my life of abusive step-fathers was so bad, that if I ever found my real dad, he would make up for it by being this amazing person. What a fucking joke. The thought that I’d be rejected by him had never even crept in my mind.
I have been documenting my trip by means of my camera cell phone. I will post some of the pictures after I load the software to get them off of the phone.
At least tonight I’m not drunk. Yet.
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