2009

"Mia… Hey Mia… Mia… open up… open up it's me…" Jayden banged on her front door barely able to support his weight in his drunken stupor. It was past three in the morning and Jayden didn't want to be alone. Every time that Jayden thought that he was over it, his father always pulled him back into it. What was the matter with him? Why couldn't his father love and accept him?

"Pipe down… pipe down… we've got neighbors…" Skip answered the door wearing his robe helping Jayden to walk to the living room and promptly collapsing onto the sofa. Skip scratched his head and then released a heavy sigh as he sat in the chair across from him.

"Nothing but issues…" He said under his breath as he watched the young man half way sleeping off his alcohol.

"Issues… You're saying I got issues?" Jayden slurred out surprising Skip. Skip thought that he was passed out drunk. Jayden managed to stagger his way up into a sitting position facing him.

"I ain't got no issues… I just hate that man…" He professed and it was perceivable that it was tearing him up inside saying it.

"I hate him… I hate…" Then he hiccupped and then he belched. "But I hate myself more…" he finally said while beating hard against his chest. "I swear I hate myself more."

"Why is that?" Skipped asked reaching on the side of his recliner next to where he was sitting and producing some bottle water. He twisted the cap off and passed Jayden the opened bottled. Jayden took some healthy gulps from it, almost draining the bottle of its entire contents. He belched once more before answering Skip's question.

"Cuz no matter how much I hate that man… I can't stop loving him." The tears had begun to fall and Jayden couldn't stop from pouring his heart out with them. He sat there blubbering as he talked and Mia's father quietly listened.

"I can't stop wanting and needing him to accept and acknowledge me." He took time to exhale and his breath came out in a heated tremble. "I hate this weakness inside of me." He said as if he had been defeated by his love for his father.

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"I feel like a loser. It's like I keep trying to measure up to some kind of invisible standard that he doesn't have. I keep trying not to care; but no matter what I do, I still care."




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