~We promised to never make promises, but my forevers and his nevers makes liars of us both~

I hate my father.
He walked out on us years ago.  I waited and hoped for years that he would come back and save me.
To come back for me so we could go off on adventures together.
He never did...come back to save me.

Yesterday, my brother gave me the news that our grandparents told him that our father is now dating his dead wife's sister who's a drug addict with AIDS and they think he's using again, too.  My brother said that and we just stared at each other before laughing.  I made a crack about hoping he dies soon so we can get his insurance money.  Oh how we laughed.

I came home and was flicking through channels and saw that Godzilla was on.  When I was little, me and my dad would huddle up on the couch on Saturday morning and watch cartoons, Star Trek, kung fu flicks, and Godzilla movies all day while munching on pistachios.  He would sit there with me all day with his t-shirt, shorts, and socks, explaining things to me and making me laugh.  He always told me how he loved his baby girl.  He still tells me that...whenever I talk to him.

Those were the best times of my childhood.  Some of them, at least.
To me, my father, was a hero.  Invincible.  Bigger than life.
And then he left me.  His baby girl.  His partner.  His love.
And he changed me forever.

Now...my brother tells me this.  I see Godzilla on the screen and I broke down crying.  I cried myself to sleep.

I hate my father.
Now it seems like he's going to put himself in his grave soon, and he'll never know how much I loved him...
how much I still love him...
and I'll hate him forever because of what he did to us...did to me...
and then never did anything to try to fix it.

Happy fucking father's day you son of a bitch.