It's Not That Easy

Correction of the last post: I did tell my mom, maybe a year ago, what I found out.

I'm not sure what I expected her reaction to be, but it certainly wasn't a "forgive-and-forget" talk.

Mom told me that she sympathized (she did) and understood my feelings (she didn't). She said if I kept up this vendetta, "our family would fall apart" (like it hasn't already). She told me that I should just forgive him.

"WHAT??" Just like that, with the capitals and the double marks of disbelief.

*** ***

Yes, I appreciate my mom.

Yes, I love her.

Yes, I understand why she wants me to forgive.

No, I won't do it.

No, I don't know why - except that I hate him.

*** ***

"I HOPE YOU CAN READ MINDS," I wrote on my school desk, "SO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH I HATE YOU."

*** ***

I hate him as I have never hated - and will never hate - anyone in my life.

A whole class that picked on me for a year?
Didn't like them, but they passed out of my mind once I moved away.

A classmate who harassed my best friend?
I poked his back (hard) with the pointy end of a pen. He screamed, and fell to the floor squirming. Start of laughter; end of harassment.

A classmate who harassed me?
Anger, but not full-fledged hate.

The only one I hate is him.

*** ***

2nd Correction of last post: I did confront my other parent with what I found out. I asked him if he cared about us at all, and if he had ever thought about what he had done to our lives. I was crying - I couldn't help it.

He said: "So the fact that I cheat means I don't care about you?"

I would've said duh, but I was crying too hard. I hate myself.

He went on to say that he was a good dad, since he didn't do drugs, drink, smoke, or gamble. "That makes me a good dad, doesn't it?"

Right. What a great dad he is. Even considering that he:
throws tantrums for ridiculous reasons
uses sarcasm on a daily basis
makes crude jokes about his wife & daughters' bodies
makes crude remarks at other ladies' bodies
bullies us into doing his will
and is an egocentric workaholic who wouldn't be able to live without full-time servants, cooks, and butlers.

Deserves an award, doesn't he?

I'm not exaggerating. Consider these scenarios.

*** ***

Take One - At Home

The sound of showering halts. "We're out of shampoo!" My other parent shouts from bathroom #1.
"Whoops," my sister "Holly" mutters. She runs to bathroom #2 to get it, and promptly delivers the bottle to MOP.
Minutes later, the showering stops again. MOP, done washing, stomps out, looking as well as sounding furious.
"Why isn't there any shampoo?" Who moved my cheese?
"You just finished using the bottle in this bathroom [#1]," Mom explains. "Holly, noxpennatus, and I all use the other one [#2]. We didn't know there wasn't any here [in #1]."
"Are we that poor? Can't we afford another bottle?"
"I just..." Mom's voice trails off.
"I've given you servants [actually, a lady who helps w/ housework. --nox] , money, a car, and you don't buy more bottles of shampoo?" MOP shrieks. "Tomorrow - go buy ten bottles!" (I am not making this up.)
He leaves, snarling, while the three of us look at each other in disbelief.
Holly and I start giggling.

*** ***

Take Two - In a Hotel Room

"Start dressing up, everyone," Mom says. "We leave for the wedding twenty minutes later."
Holly grabs her outfit and beats me to the (only) bathroom. "Change in the closet!" Holly shouts.
"Okay, okay." I open the closet door (which is mirrored on the inside), slip in, remove my hoodie, t-shirt, and jeans, toss them outside, then realize my outfit isn't with me.
"Mom?" I open the door a crack. "Can you hand me my dress and undergarment? I can't come out."
"Aiee!" MOP screams. "I can see your - " He stops deliberately for effect, then cracks up. "You know why I screamed?"
I fume. "Right, how amazing fatherly love is. I'm so touched, I'm going to faint."
Mom gives me the required items and silences me with a look.

*** ***

The list goes on, fragments and memories. I can't remember all of them in detail now. However, be assured that I do not chastise MOP without good reason.

My mother asked me to forgive him.

If only it was that easy.

Forgiveness cannot find a place in my heart for him. My feelings toward him are stuffed full of anger and hate. Forgiveness and love cannot enter. Perhaps I have been so used to hating him, I automatically reject forgiveness.

Maybe one day I will love him and forgive him for what he has done, or forget all about him and move on in my life; but, for now, it feels like that day will never come.