Fire

This week’s blog will be a personal vendetta against somebody who told me I would never be anything, somebody that never really did care about me. He lives in his own world, a world that I once enjoyed when I was in my undergraduate heyday only a couple years ago, but he’s enjoying it now almost at the age of fifty. If anybody knows who I’m talking about (which will most likely be family) then you will understand the ugly in this personal letter. I could care less if the world read this letter for it is an embarrassment for a human being to treat a human being the way this shmuck has especially towards his own son. Hence the name of this blog will be called fire, for it is pure truth and despair that I have for this human being for he hasn’t talked to me in a year. So here we go.

Dear Child Care Provider est. 1992-2013,

           

            I don’t want to say anymore that needs to be said for that this letter should be vindication for how I know you truly feel about me. When you left my mother the way you did, had the audacity  to think I hated you after she divorced you, and then assume that our bridge had burned before I hit my teen years. I was 12 years old in 2003, the year I decided to call you and remind you that I love you, that I miss you, that I hadn’t seen my child care provider in way to long of a time. We bonded from the beginning. We talked about sports first thing, football and the crazy baseball memories from your high school days. We got along as if we were long lost friends and it was something I cherished and I was so glad I could rekindle a bridge that needed repairing. I came down to visit during spring break while you were in San Antonio and I remember you introducing me to the San Antonio Spurs, how much you told about the greatness of Time Duncan, the Flare of Manu Ginobili and the youth and dash of the 21 year old Tony Parker. A connection was seriously bonding between the two of us and I could feel us growing closer as though we could make this work. We talked more and more about my little league experiences through middle school, we chatted constantly about the spurs, and you would inspire me to push my limits even when I didn’t think I could do so.

High school started and you pushed me to pursue the most difficult of challenges, play sports, and give me some sort of motivation to get into college while attaining an honor graduate diploma in high school. You sat me down in New Orleans and gave me the speech of doing so well on the SAT and ACT and figuring my shit when it came to my after school plans. You opened my eyes similarly to how my mom opened my eyes before I started high school and those things are only more than impressionable on a teenage boy than you can ever imagine. I remember when I was going through senior year of high school and you were so pumped that your first son was going to a private liberal arts college unlike so many people that I went to school with. You were so stoked you changed your profile picture and nearly made me the center of your world with how proud you were of my accomplishments. I couldn’t have been prouder of my dad and how far we had come through our relationship.

Then college came and you became a totally different animal. You saw that my grades dipped below where I had planned to have them, you saw that I joined a fraternity, and you saw that I didn’t have a job. Your perceptions changed for the worse as if I had become a demon child and that I was “throwing away my life” because I had joined a fraternity. My brothers are more family then you ever have been and all they did was promote a sense of family along with a sense of scholarly improvement that I so desperately needed, but your media driven air force miniature brain couldn’t get its head out of its own ass to realize the extra curricula’s I was doing to boost my chances of getting a job and then eventually graduate from college with a more well-rounded background then I could ever imagine. But you never really came around. You supported me, you would listen, you would even lend me a helping hand if I ever needed it, but at the end of the day, your views had changed of your own son because your world was not getting attended to. The bridge began to lose its stability.

The summer of 2012 came and I decided to take on the ultimate test of independence as a college student. Living in a home where I was working to pay my own rent, food, and gas and I would let you know how I was doing as often as I could because I knew it would take you and mom to help me every once in a while. You stopped answering your calls, you stopped answering my emails, and you completely lost faith in my ability to have what it took to become an adult. My senior year started and my hours got cut from work, I was basically in the most dire of situations when it came to my financial situation. I never asked for money in the past and this was the only time I ever wanted to ask you. You flat out denied me and ignored all of my messages, ignored anything your own son asked of you. Then the phone call that changed our relationship forever.

I call you the day before my 22^nd birthday and we discussed my situation of moving out of that house I was living in. You called my decision moronic, brought up every worst case scenario your little mind could think of and you ignored all of my answers to your questions. If there was a definition of ass hole in this conversation, you displayed every feature. You corrected me as if you had lived my life the past 3+ years not providing the positive feedback I had expected like you did in high school, you didn’t give me the opportunity to explain why everything was going to be ok, all you did was give your side of the story and bitch me out like I was a 16 year old sheep. A year ago today you hung up on me when all I did was try to explain my side of the story when all you did was explain to me your perspective, never allowing me to provide mine, the definition of narrow-mindedness. Ever since that day, I haven’t owed you an apology, I haven’t done anything wrong to make you mad at me, it’s your world that has seeped out and poisoned that people that love you. Your family, they love you, but you push them away, your first wife, she cares about you as a person, but you bitch her out too. Your 3 children, you find ways to bury them in the dust just to get your ego to prevail (believe me, I have that same feeling, it’s genetic, I get it, but it doesn’t mean you need to extract it onto other people). Most of the things you do dad, I have already done and I completely understand your thought process, you forget I am your son, and I know exactly why you feel the way you do about your family, but does that mean the disrespect and the one-upping needs to occur constantly so you don’t have to compensate for something we all know you lack? Dad you’re a fucking failure at life, you disrespect your son, you hang out with 23-26 year old graduate students and take pictures of young women like you are living your college days in your late 40’s. What makes you think this is cool? What makes doing something so youthful at such a gross age is so cool in your arrogant stubborn world that you live in? Apparently all the things I did to build our relationship to what it became prior to college was just another outlet for you to display your puny world that you call Jim Allen.

Fuck you dad, this bridge will never be fixed until you owe me an apology, till you admit your wrong doings to me and why you acted in your childish ways and how you still do. You are not a man if you can’t follow through with your commitment to your children and you are definitely not one if you have to stoop down to the level of a 6 year old girl in a candy store who doesn’t get her way. I’m done with you dad, I will always take a sincere apology, but I’m not jumping back to fix a relationship that I decided to sew back up in 2003. I’m not doing it again 10 years later when you’re the one acting like your brain hasn’t fully developed. I thank you for the 20 years of child support and also trying to get your way out of paying the last 6 months of it because you were fed up with paying for a “failing college student.” Let’s see, what have you missed in the past year that I should bring up, Oh yeah, I graduated from college, got a job working with Autistic kids and then moved into the Recovery field to help kids. I’m doing something with my major right out of college and you couldn’t give 2 shits. Well here’s my letter to you, let me know when your ready to apologize because I hope it’s before your 70 and need depends to hold your own shit.

Sincerely your child support bill

See you all next week.