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When would it end? When would this malicious cycle of brokenness end? When would I ever really be free? Did I even deserve it?
I wanted to escape… to escape the questions, the thoughts, everything.
So, I sank to the floor and let the darkness consume me.
I didn't know how long I slept, but the feeling of something trailing the side of my face woke me.
Slowly, I let my heavy lid flutter open.
The figure was blurry at first, but after a few blinks, I saw that it was Dad.
He was kneeling beside me, eyes red and droopy and posture wavering as his thumb lightly traced my face.
“Dad?” I furrowed my brows, rising to a seating position. He inhaled sharply.
“You look so much like your mom,” he whispered.
His breath reeked of alcohol. Dad barely drank, so him being tipsy was surreal.
I breathed, not knowing what to say. He retracted his finger from my face.
“We had you when she was twenty…” He heaved a deep breath. “She freaked out when she first knew. She … she almost ran.” His shoulders shook.
I couldn’t quite tell whether the sound that followed after was laughter or a cry.
He continued. “We were still in college; she was nervous and everything but I… I was there to support her… kiss her tears away,” he smiled forlornly.
“I provided her assurance… and comfort… the two things she needed strongly at the time.”
His shoulders slouched, his head tilting to stare at me.
“When I went out, I thought about many things…” he trailed.
I held my breath. I wasn’t the daughter he was proud of.
“…The first being that I failed you as a father and failed your mom as a husband.”
I winced, bringing a hand to wrap around my body.
“It’s not your fault, Dad. It’s not.”
“You think?” A tear slipped past his eyes.
“I promised your mother I'd keep you safe, that I'd shield you from the harsh realities of the world. But here you are, facing this..." he gestured sloppily, "alone."
His voice turned raw.
“It is times like these that test us. It is situations like this that challenges me as a father to do better. So maybe if I failed, it isn’t so bad… because failure can be a chance to start again.”
I broke into tears, staring at him with a mix of emotions.
The disappointment was still in his eyes, but beneath the layers, I found a flicker of something— acceptance.
He was giving me his support. I jumped to hug him, my tears drenching his shirt.
“Thank you, Dad.”
He wrapped his arm tightly around me, before pulling back to stare at me.
