Daddy issues on V-Day

My father is a constant source of surprise and horror.  I’m not embarassed by him, I’ve lost faith in him.

He visited me this weekend…not to see me, but to head to the local casino to play the slot machines.  He arrived this evening…and will most likely be leaving for my hometown around 2am…we probably spent 45 minutes total together on this excursion. 

In this 45 minutes he scared the shit out of me.  First, we started talking about my dating life, or lack thereof.  Surprisingly he is very supportive of me, never pressures me with anything.  Then we started to talk about his high school years…and how he was popular.  He started to tell me a story…he used words he knows I hate.  I can’t even write what he told me, I’m so ashamed, because I’m not sure if he sees it as wrong.  I tried to explain to him….if someone did that to my friends…I would want to hurt them….badly.  My dad was an asshole…one of those stereotypical assholes you see in high school movies.  I’ll say this much…it has to do with homophobia…because through this conversation I made the comment that girls hit on me all the time, I find it flattering.  I think I almost gave him a heart attack.  I literally had to look him in the eyes and say “I’m not gay Dad”.

Apparently if I was he would have stabbed himself with a fork…at least that’s the gesture he made.

It’s so exhausting trying to come up with reasons to be proud of my father…he doesn’t make it fucking easy.

Then he tells me, in all seriousness….that he fucking has cancer.

Let that sink in.

He’s had it for EIGHT YEARS.  He didn’t tell anyone…  Apparently it doesn’t require chemo…which I’m happy about.  But apparently he has a kidney full of cysts..yippee!!!!

So in a forty-five minute conversation my father made me hate him a little…then pity him…then be grateful that he hadn’t told me.  Because he’s right, I wouldn’t have been able to handle it.

As cliche as it may be, I love my father…but sometimes I sure as hell don’t like him.

Cheese in rice.