In which I sort of ramble.
I have temporarily given up sleep tonight (yes, it is rather late/early for that, I do know :P). Turns out my mind has decided to give me things to think about. I think it's been getting bored, what with some rather good things happening lately.
But yeah. Acquiescing to a hankering I had to listen to some old music of mine led me down to thinking about my dear old Dad.
Now, most people reading this will know that meself and the Old Man don't get on too well. Nothing terribly tragic or the like (really, it's a little pathetic). I'm not sure exactly when it started, but I think we've pretty much been arguing near nonstop since I was about twelve. He sort of tried to squash anything remotely feminine out of me (I think it's mostly because of him that I detest the colour pink, and feel rather stupid and strange doing female type things. It's taken a long time for me to watch a rom-com and not feel slightly ashamed of myself every time. It still happens occasionally). He never wanted a girl. Our personalities clashed like mad. I got sick of the endless amounts of war programs on TV, the condescension, his unfair and hypocritical attitude and his lack of caring about most of the things I considered important. This is why, when 6th form ended and I could, I moved into my mum's flat in Harrogate to sleep on a sofa bed. I didn't see him then (or really speak to him) until New Years', when I was at some relations (I always liked the rest of my family on his side, and mum's side doesn't have much left). He happened to be there. And in possibly one of the awkwardest situations in my LIFE, we ignored each other the entire evening.
Now, let me get a few things also straight after that. We share similar senses of humour in a lot of things. We also have matching tastes and interests in music. We also love things fantasy and the like. We both got a little gooey over swords and things (the first time he bought one off eBay and it arrived, we sat around all evening playing with it). Before it got really stupid, we used to watch 'Most Haunted' together, with lit candles and the works. He is the one who introduced me to margheritas, one of my favourite alcoholic drinks. He has a strange knack for buying things that I like, like some jewellery, scarves, stuff like that. Some of my best and daftest childhood memories are because of him, like playing Gladiators in my living room, or singing along to Monty Python and the Holy Grail. Watching Kelly's Heroes. Faulty Towers and The Brittas Empire.
Sorry, this is taking some effort, so it might get a little confused from here (I'm already back in tears).
I don't know what to do. I've been a horrible person in all this. What daughter after all ignores her father? But at the same time, he's as much to blame as I am. I really can hate him some times. But lately, I don't know if it's because I've not seen him in so long, I've started to think about what the hell I'm going to do about it all. If we were to meet up, it would be as awkward as fuck. I've no idea what I'd say to him. It would also hurt like a bitch in so many ways. But at the same time, a little part of me, perhaps a stupid part that doesn't realise how hopeless it is, sort of wants her daddy.
I am not a daddy's girl, never have been. But sometimes... I don't know. I don't know what to do. What's the right thing, what I want to do.
And I do wish I could talk to Boy about it, but it's 4 bloody am, and he's been (and I think still is) at a folk festival all weekend. So he'll be knackered and having fun with his family, and there's no way I'm ruining that.
Bah. Stupid brain.
But yeah. Acquiescing to a hankering I had to listen to some old music of mine led me down to thinking about my dear old Dad.
Now, most people reading this will know that meself and the Old Man don't get on too well. Nothing terribly tragic or the like (really, it's a little pathetic). I'm not sure exactly when it started, but I think we've pretty much been arguing near nonstop since I was about twelve. He sort of tried to squash anything remotely feminine out of me (I think it's mostly because of him that I detest the colour pink, and feel rather stupid and strange doing female type things. It's taken a long time for me to watch a rom-com and not feel slightly ashamed of myself every time. It still happens occasionally). He never wanted a girl. Our personalities clashed like mad. I got sick of the endless amounts of war programs on TV, the condescension, his unfair and hypocritical attitude and his lack of caring about most of the things I considered important. This is why, when 6th form ended and I could, I moved into my mum's flat in Harrogate to sleep on a sofa bed. I didn't see him then (or really speak to him) until New Years', when I was at some relations (I always liked the rest of my family on his side, and mum's side doesn't have much left). He happened to be there. And in possibly one of the awkwardest situations in my LIFE, we ignored each other the entire evening.
Now, let me get a few things also straight after that. We share similar senses of humour in a lot of things. We also have matching tastes and interests in music. We also love things fantasy and the like. We both got a little gooey over swords and things (the first time he bought one off eBay and it arrived, we sat around all evening playing with it). Before it got really stupid, we used to watch 'Most Haunted' together, with lit candles and the works. He is the one who introduced me to margheritas, one of my favourite alcoholic drinks. He has a strange knack for buying things that I like, like some jewellery, scarves, stuff like that. Some of my best and daftest childhood memories are because of him, like playing Gladiators in my living room, or singing along to Monty Python and the Holy Grail. Watching Kelly's Heroes. Faulty Towers and The Brittas Empire.
Sorry, this is taking some effort, so it might get a little confused from here (I'm already back in tears).
I don't know what to do. I've been a horrible person in all this. What daughter after all ignores her father? But at the same time, he's as much to blame as I am. I really can hate him some times. But lately, I don't know if it's because I've not seen him in so long, I've started to think about what the hell I'm going to do about it all. If we were to meet up, it would be as awkward as fuck. I've no idea what I'd say to him. It would also hurt like a bitch in so many ways. But at the same time, a little part of me, perhaps a stupid part that doesn't realise how hopeless it is, sort of wants her daddy.
I am not a daddy's girl, never have been. But sometimes... I don't know. I don't know what to do. What's the right thing, what I want to do.
And I do wish I could talk to Boy about it, but it's 4 bloody am, and he's been (and I think still is) at a folk festival all weekend. So he'll be knackered and having fun with his family, and there's no way I'm ruining that.
Bah. Stupid brain.