My father was “always there”, but only as an executive. And only when necessary.
He was not one to show up in the audience,
Or to make plans we could bond over,
Or to reach out when we were apart.
My father always “cared for me”, but only silently. And only as much as necessary.
He was not one to be vulnerable,
Or to ask for support,
Or to give it.
My relationship with my father was built on assumption and disappointment.
I assumed he cared for me to some extent, as a father should,
He assumed that I assumed as much, as a desperate daughter would.
We disappointed each other and called it relationship.
And that became the skeleton of what I learned love to be.

I chase my father in every man I choose.
I find him in their failures
To show up,
To reach out,
To apologize,
To try,
To not leave me to assumption,
And I fight to earn their affection,
Hoping to find his along the way.

I choose the men reluctant to love me,
Because their indifference feels like home.

- p. winter