The guidance counselor asked me about my relationship with my father

I didn't mean to scoff right then and there, but all I could say was fine

My father was never physical with me, and if he was, he said sorry afterward

I don't really understand why he apologizes for the cruel things I made him do

I was a brat growing up, so that's a given, and I never really understood sorry until my father stopped apologizing for the things I didn't make him do

Sorry was like a long-distance cousin that never visits, and if they did, it'd be in my dreams

My father is what sorry looks like

He's there, but he never really shows himself, and I sometimes wonder, if I try hard enough to pull the words out of him, I'll be able to understand how sorry he was

Sorry's come and go 

I never really understood the word sorry until it triggered something in me 

I say sorry all the time, which means I think about my father and how he never shows up when I need him the most and how he's always there when it's already too late

I wait and wait for him to say something, and I am guilty because I'm half of what sorry is

I am my father 

I am both sorry and a ticking time bomb; one never shows up and the latter is ready to explode

I say sorry all the time; I forgot what it's like to be thankful instead 

I am here, but unlike my father, I pull out the word sorry in my mouth even in minor inconveniences because I am sorry for my existence; and unlike my father, who likes to bottle it up and explode in a big empty house, I explode in crowded places where I hurt everyone that's close to where I am

And I say sorry to every person who has been cut by the broken pieces of myself on the floor

Sorry coming out like vomit--messy, painful, and sad 

When the guidance counselor asked me about my relationship with him, I almost said sorry for scoffing at her question 

I never told her that my father stopped saying sorry to me when I entered highschool

And I missed the word sorry so much that I became it

My father is a walking definition of sorry 

He has that plastered on his forehead, tattooed on his chest, and he wears it on his sleeve 

But when he sees me, he never gives it to me

I never hear him apologize for the things I didn't make him do this time 

Sorry is luxury and my father's too expensive 

I can never pull out a sorry from his mouth

I had to beg for an apology, and that felt pathetic 

I almost yelled in his sorry face to tell me that he should be sorry for saying he doesn't have a daughter in front of me 

The guidance counselor said that this must be the cause of my rejection and abandonment issues

We're living in the same house--him chocking on sorry's that he will never express and me waiting for a sorry that will never come

He's just looking at me with his sorry eyes, and I feel the need to calculate my worth to see if I am worthy of something 

I guess, the only sorry I will ever get to have from my father is that he's sorry that I am his child 

My relationship with my father is fine, and even after saying this, I felt the urge to say sorry to myself 

So the guidance counselor proceeded to ask me about what I think of men in general 

All I could say was, "I'm sorry, they look scary to me."

And there's a pause in our conversation 

The silence was too loud that I felt the need to say sorry 

Men are scary 

I don't know if it started with my father or if it's because of something else

All I know is that I feel smaller and disgusting whenever they're around--with their eyes pierced right through me as if to say they can see me and all the things I'm trying to hide

And I always end up apologizing.


  • Author: Gie (Pseudonym) (Offline Offline)
  • Published: March 30th, 2023 04:40
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 4
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