What made you not love your own daughter?
Your own flesh and blood?
The one that you raised into this world to become a strong woman, and to guide to a life of joy and love?
“He’s a horrible person, your father, that man loves no one,” says my mother
I know
I grew up with him
I lived with him
I lived with the angry outbursts and the mood swings that led to the demise of my parents relationship
I grew up in a house without love
I never got to experience seeing my parents hand in hand
Instead, my father used that hand for evil
His abuse tore me to shreds
It beat me to the ground like he did that day
After that day I stopped loving my father
My eyes were opened to the monster that was truly him all along
A part of me wants to beat some sense into him
“How could you treat your family like this? What did we do to deserve this treatment?”
But another part of me wants to hold him close and ask him
Beg him
“Why don’t you love me daddy, why?”
But his answer would haunt me until the day I die
“Because you’re just like your mother”