A Fathers Love

My father was smart, he could fix almost anything, he taught me how to throw a ball, and we would play catch often. He was only fun if you had something in common with him. Other then that he wasn’t much of a father. He didn’t seem to know how to show love, but growing up with 5 siblings you think he would at least know a little. It was hard on me, growing up with one parent trying to give you the love of two, and then you feel bad because your mother feels like she isn’t giving you enough and that’s always the worst feeling in the world because you don’t know how to tell her that she is enough. 

The love a mother gives you is completely different then the love a father can give you. Mothers are nurturing, kind, and caring. While fathers are supposed to be tough, loving, and over-protective. I feel like I missed out on the dad part. Now that I’m in my twenties it’s a little too late for my father to do all those things. This is the part of my life when my parents are supposed to let me explore and do what I want, and discover who I am. But, I feel like i’ve been trying to do that my whole life. How am I supposed to be able to have a real relationship with a man if the only love I’ve ever felt from one is my brother? Sibling love is extremely different then parental love. Siblings are like your friends, they want what’s best for you but they don’t care if they put little road blocks on your way there. Now, I know my brother and I never had the best relationship growing up but that is because my father leaving was probably the hardest on him. After all, he was only nine at the time and what’s a nine year old boy going to do without his father there? Living with three girls couldn’t have been too easy for him either. Now that we’re both older, we have become much closer and I am very thankful for that because my brother is an amazing person and I love him as much as you can love another human being. But he is not my father. My father is not the man who let me dance on his feet at the father daughter dance. He is not the man who gave me flowers and called me his valentine when I didn't have one. He is not the man who tells me he loves me unconditionally and never let me forget it. He is supposed to be, but he's not. 

How am I supposed to know what it feels like to have a man love you? Because all I receive is a text message on my birthday, the same generic christmas gift each year, and a phone call maybe once a month, if I’m lucky. From what I can tell, my father loves me, the best he knows how. Most people say that girls marry a man like their father, but I will never marry anyone remotely close to the man who gave me life, because he is just that.

Author's Note

Okay so I am new to this website but I am attempting to write a book and would love some feed back, this is only a small section of a chapter. I haven't figured out what direction I'm going in yet with the book so be nice please :)
update: I edited some errors and changed it up just a little.

Reviews

[Blogger]

This is a bit sad...but insightful and sweet too. You seem well adjusted (or the character in your story does at least). This sounds very familiar since my own father was nicer and had more time for me than my 3 sisters. It wasnt fair, but it was what it was.

Keep writing! I am interested.