It was such a strange thing to hear his father speak to him like that. The smaller man came to set down on his couch next to him, plate in hand, and then his heart simply began to pour forth. It was needed, it was such a needed thing for the both of them to air out all the dirty laundry and finally be rid of the walls in their emotions that paralyzed them from acting as an actual father an son, however in that moment - that moment of his father’s weakness there was only one word that he could think to say.
It was more than he could handle and while his mind was screaming in anger, there was a second voice within that was assuring him that while he was justified, he needed to calm himself before he lost control of himself. His father was trying and he couldn’t hold it against him. The man seemed to believe he was completely at fault for everything that happened, and was completely missing the piece of the puzzle that was his middle child’s unwavering devotion.
“Please stop acting like you held a gun to my head.” The words came out harsher than he intended to, as his anger slipped through the cracks ever so slightly. There was a pause, a breath and a moment where the younger simply sat in silence with his eyes closed while he focused on nothing more than the pace of his breaths.
“I did horrible things back then. Horrible, inhumane things. I hurt people. I almost killed a girl, and almost got myself killed.” His hands moved together as his fingers wove into a tangled pattern while he moved his gaze to his living room carpet, the malice and blame that should have been present in his tone, completely absent.
“You never forced me to do anything. There may have been a push or a nudge in the direction you wanted me to go, but I did everything of my own free will, Father.”
His expression shifted, it was obvious the conversation was upsetting for him, but at the same time it was apparent how much personal strength he was using to hold himself in composer. It was a striking difference to the child he was just those few years ago.
“Honestly I’ve been wondering how long it was going to take you to realize it, but I suppose my therapist was right and I have to tell you to your face.” There was another pause followed by a drawn breath meant to steady himself as he forced himself to have the will to speak the words he’d longed to say.
“Everything I did back then. All those horrible things. I don’t blame you for them. I never have. I did everything because I love you. All I’ve ever wanted was for you to be proud of me, but I’ve always felt like I was your troublesome child. I don’t avoid you out of anger, Dad. I avoid you because I don’t feel like I’m good enough to look you in the eye.”
He clenched his hands together tightly as he forced himself to fight back the feeling of fear that was bubbling in the pit of his stomach. There. He’d said it. He’d finally just said what he’d meant to for so many long years. How would he look at him now? Would it be the same look of shame and disgust? Or would it go differently?
He swallowed hard with anticipation and fear. He just had to wait.
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