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The only lesson I ever learned from my father was how NOT to be. He seemed to be a father figure to most people around him except for his own children. He would much rather spend his time working, flirting, fucking, then the most important f word: FATHER. God damn him. I could have handled that shit any day of the week. Jules never ever deserved it. She is sweet and kind and loving and so much more than the Valentino name ever gave her. She was so young and so innocent when the real fighting started. Screaming matches that seemed to last for hours. I remember so clearly the sould of breaking glass and harsh words. I could handle it (or at least I thought I could). I am much stronger than her. I tried to protect her as best I could, but she knew. She always knew what was really going on.
My mother has been both parents for most of my life. When my father was around, it was all empty promises and broken plans. Never came to a soccer game or a spelling bee or even a parent teacher conference. He did not give a shit about anyone around him except for himself. I remember coming home early from school one day, I think my mom was at the store. I could hear him with someone...a woman...that dirty old bastard. I remember hearing their pants and moans and... the whole fucking thing. He was too busy banging aspiring actresses to care about his kids. I could never tell my mother what I heard that day. I think deep down she knew but I was not going to be the one to break her heart. My mother, God bless her. She put up with a lot so that my sister and I could have a "father". Guilt. That's what I feel toward my mother and my sister. Guilty that my mom put herself through hell when I should have taken care of this family. Guilty that I let myself go when they needed me the most. Alcohol has ruined my life through and through. I let it become my coping mechanism when I should have reached out and talked to someone. Even now, almost a year and a half sober, I still want it. I fucking crave it like oxygen. It's always in the back of my head, screaming and begging to get out. "One more sip, that won't hurt". That was how I ended up in rehab last time. I can't go back. I can't put my family through that again. I can't let my father rip me apart again. Never ever again...... |