heat

It's hot. Damn hot. In fact, I can't remember the last time it's been this hot even during the summer. My little suburban city reached an unheard of 107 degrees over the weekend. Tonight at 8pm, it was 94 degrees. 94! At 8pm!

Heat makes people more irritable. So it makes irritating people even more angry and bitter... i.e. my dad. As almost everyone close to me knows (and now the rest of the world), this man makes my life miserable. He alone has the power to drive me completely crazy. Why? Unlike the other people I've walked away from because of their mistreatment, somewhere in the laws of life, it says that I can't walk away from my father.

This past weekend, my dad left to visit his friends in San Diego. The house was wonderfully peaceful. My mom, brother, and I ate dinner at the table, laughed together as my mom told stories. There was no complaining about my mom's cooking, talking shit about my flaws, etc. My mom commented on the pleasant difference as well. Heck, even my grandma acknowledges that my mom probably should have divorced my dad's loser ass.

No matter how much I feel sorry for him, or how hard I try to understand, he should know that he's made my life unbearable at times. He will never be more than just my biological father; he never lets himself become any more than that. I love him because a part of me has to. I hate him because the pain that he's caused me won't let go.