it's really nothing when i think about how i lived life not being raised by a father. truth of the matter is, most of the time i don't even notice it. it just was.
but times came when i realized that i had somethings in my life and how i turned out to be as a person that lacked what i might call a "father's touch", however feminine that sounds. when i was in my elementary days, i found out that i was one of the tallest kids in my year and how much of an asset that was. but even as much as i would have loved to jump up and down about this so called "asset" i realized one thing that made it almost useless. i didn't know how to play basketball. i tried to learn the sport, and boy how awkward it felt trying to play a game that you know you had know idea how to. i was so ashamed everytime i had to say that i didn't know how to pass around a ball and prevent the other guys from stopping me putting it into a ring. and that's how i grew into not fancying the game. i think a father would have wanted me to put my height into good use, make him proud that his son is tall and is a gifted ball player, which by the way, some of my friends say i am it's just i haven't had training. and i easily get tired.
so how does any guy who is discovering the odd physical effects of puberty get over the shock and the unexplainable sensation of lust? well, good thing i had my neighbor for that. we've explored the vast collection of porn that his father had in his vhs shelf and that's when i've learned the truth about the birds and the bees. and how about relieving the insatiable heat that keeps on consuming my body everytime we watch or everytime i see a very scantly dressed woman? well, i thank my bus service-mates for that. let's just say that they've given a very clear description on how to make sure that you satisfy the hunger that the ember in your loins call for. and what about how to treat women? a father would have given me tips about it but i guess my mom showed me and made me learn well enough and i'm proud to say that i'm a gentleman as my mom would have wanted it.
i even sought out father figures from different guys and most of them have been my mom's boyfriends. one made the most impression and had the most influence on me. and i looked up to him so dearly. i loved him as i would have my father, and i wish that he rests well in God's hands.
so why am i still being bitter and at the same time wanting the life of having a father? i really don't know. i hate that my father left, and i hate the feeling i have that i hate fathers in general (especially @#$";^ fathers who do nothing but fend for themselves). i hate that i still feel jealous that other kids get to have someone to have the final say, make them feel sorry just by staring them down even though their mothers still aren't done with the ranting, having someone to comfort them when times get hard, or just be the one to turn to when they need a strong and sturdy person to lean on. well, i guess i'm feeling sorry but who can blame me. i'm just a man without a father.
thanks for reading.