He was commanding, loyal, and loving.
Now submissive, dispassionate, and skeptical.
Every moment growing up, I wanted to be more and more like him. Only because that was the only figure I saw through tunnel vision. I was unaware of others' potential to lead until my flaws became more prominent.
He only wanted to change my flaws, not help me live with them. His love was strong but misguided like a one-way mirror where we both saw ourselves on the light side but my true self was hidden behind the other side in the darkness.
He refused to see me bloom in the dark room because he couldn't trust me. Mostly because I broke his trust.
This is what starts to break him down.
I've made him lie for me, not the kind of I'll cover for you one time lie for me. The lie that betrays it's own blood. The lie that drives guilt throughout one's mind, body, and spirit.
I broke his spirit, I no longer recognized him as a role model. He was losing power like the light bulb that flickers only during moments where it wants to shine, but getting dimmer each time.
He looks lonelier each time I see him. The light in his eyes, like the light bulb, are starting to fade. He sits alone on the couch erasing his mind with bullshit t.v. of stupid shows that prove no worth in his life. They are but a mere distraction.
I see him there without a clue of what to say. It's different between us, he and I both know it, but won't acknowledge it. If there was an elephant in the room it would be the greatest circus animal in a flamboyant costume with a goddamn mardi gras parade around it.
The last show he watches claims that only real families are the ones that are together. This upsets him and draws him closer to the screen. He sits with interest as if the reality show was his own reality. As if he felt a fucking connection of images broadcasted around the world was meant only for him.
Now he's confused what to believe, what to feel. He swings the sacred band tied by the holy golden chain as if it were a toy. Delegating within himself what it's message really means. Has he given up now? Could it be that his God is being questioned by him? What meaning of power does the man have anymore? He thinks these questions as he somberly walks back upstairs. To his wife, oh how the wife would follow in his footsteps behind his shadow and nearly in the back ground. It is he who follows the darkness leading up to the room.
Things have changed now. The wife is in control, but it's because a different god has given her more power. The green linen with many faces. Ah she's the breadwinner, and it pains him because he can't do a thing about it.
He sleeps on the couch, I know this without entering their room. There's a reason why they keep an extra set of blankets and pillows folded neatly near it.
His eyes red from pain each time I see him now. His wrinkles are slowly getting more and more visible as if the marble is starting to crack. I can nearly see his own kingdom come crumbling down. All I hope is that he will allow me to help him rebuild it. I know the fall will come, what matters is if he will get back up.