Hate Burns Into Anger, Which Burns Into Rage, Which Accumulates In Sadness
People are lying to me. My family is lying to me. My father's family is lying to me. I have been put in the middle of everything. The sinewy strings are being tightened and pulled - contorted and manipulated - there is something wrong. I can feel that. There is someone lying. There is someone amazingly hurt. And, then, there is someone that seems all too calm about everything. It's a mess. Great and true. It's a mess.
Around 2:00 PM yesterday I got a weird call from my step-mother. I didn't answer it because I was at work. I don't usually answer my cell phone at work, especially when the boss is in the office. I just let it pass. Moments later, for some weird reason, I decided to listen to the message that she left me. It was weird. I heard someone say, "don't worry baby...it will be ok." All of a sudden my heart started to pound in my chest. I thought that something had happened to my little brother or my little sister. So, I decided to text my step-mother to make sure that everything was ok. Right after, she texted me back telling me it was an emergency and she needed me to call her right away. Panicked, I did so.
She told me that she left my father. That she couldn't take it anymore and just left. She said she took the kids, the cat, and all of their stuff and got out of there. Now, I had a feeling that his was going to happen. I sympathized with her. This definitely was not an emergency though. I listened to her cry a bit and told her that things would be ok and that if my father had been drinking again, it was a good thing that she took the kids and got out of there. Maybe he would then realize that he needs to change his life. She told me that she just wanted me to know and maybe to let me know that I should call my dad and check on him because she was worried about him. Now, I haven't talked to my dad in a long time and we don't have the best of relationships. In fact, I pretty much despise the bastard. But, I don't want something bad to happen to him because, in the end, he is my father. So, I called him. I have just placed myself in the middle of this whole fucking mess.
My dad was crying. He said that he was shocked. He didn't understand what happened. While he was at work that morning, she packed up everything and moved out. Now, not only did she move her stuff out of the house, but she took my dads stuff too. She took the whole bedroom set (didn't even leave her his bed that he paid for), the washer and dryer (which was the both of theirs), and the dining room table (which, he paid for with his mother's money that he inherited when she died). Now, this isn't right. Those things aren't hers. And I was going to tell my father that, but he said he needed to go and would call me later. I left it at that. Thinking that I was finally clear of this whole mess, I enjoyed the rest of my day.
Around 12:30 AM last night, I was awoken from an unnaturally pleasant dream by my father calling me. He was crying. It sounded as though he had been drinking. He denied it profusely, but I could tell. He was bawling, telling me he didn't know what he was going to do. He was scared. Then he told me that not only did he take all the things that I mentioned before, but she also took all the ceiling fans in the house, the refrigerator (leaving him with the dinky one in the garage), and the family photos. Now this is some scandalous shit. Who fucking takes the ceiling fans? He told me how much he hated her, that he didn't care about the materialistic bull-shit, he wanted a divorce, but most of all, he didn't want to lose his kids. He is scared to be alone and he feels old. He doesn't know what to do and he doesn't know where to go from here. He can't even make it into work because he has nowhere to sleep and can't clean his clothes. Now this is some bull-shit. My step-mother is fucking him over hardcore and it is plain wrong. I advised my father to get a lawyer. That it needed to be his first step. I told him that before that though, he needed to fall asleep on the couch and just rest because nothing can be solved at 1:00 AM. He kept crying. And my heart broke for him...
It turns out that even though my dad has treated me like shit for so long, I don't want to see him get fucked over and treated like shit. I don't want him to hurt. I don't want him to do something harmful to himself. I want him to be ok. He is still my father.
And yet, I am now in the middle of all this bull-shit. And I didn't sleep well. And now I am at work.
God.
Fuck.