Express The Distress

growth

You always fought with your dad. You'd come to school and pour your dramatized story right into my palms, feeding me every last detail. And at the very end, you'd tell me exactly how much you hated him.

I listened thoroughly nodding every so often while thrumming my hands on the cold cafeteria table. I agreed with you, telling you what you wanted to hear and not what I really wanted to say.

You'd tell me a lot of things.

You'd tell me you guys never agreed on any subject but when it came to your brother, your dad practically worshipped him. You'd tell me how you'd ignore him whenever he was home even as you passed each other in the hall. You'd tell me how you would yell at him for making you pizza rolls because they came out too crispy for your liking. You'd tell me every last flaw he had when you couldn't even see your own.

You picked him apart as if you sifting through a package of skittles searching for your favorite flavor only to find that there wasn't any. But you failed to recognize all the pretty colors because you were so dead set on finding the one you favored most. He was the afterthought that you prodded through, leaving him for last only to end up him throwing away.

Here you were spilling your 'problems' on me and here I was listening when my dad died at the age of seven. But I stay silent. What I wanted to say was you have a dad. He's living, he's breathing, and he loves you. You have what I don't. You don't even realize how lucky you are or how spoiled and ungrateful you sound.

It's not your dad that's the problem. It's you.

It's anger that boils in my bloodstream as you continue to talk. It's heat that crawls up onto my cheeks as each word you say only aggravates me further. It's crazy how self-centered you are when you don't even consider my feelings when you know my dad is six feet under.

And one day

one day

I exploded.

I told you just what I thought.

Your mouth was agape, your cheeks flushed, your eyes wide. But I let you feel every ounce of what I felt not once backing down. And when I was done, I pushed in my chair so hard the table shook as I turned right around and stormed off.

Everyone was staring at you when I left, everyone was shocked. We weren't friends after that. To even look at you enraged me.

But one day

one day

I saw you through a diner window as I walked by. You were sitting with your dad eating dessert and laughing. You were full on laughing with him. I smiled because I was truly happy for you. That was the moment I'd forgiven you even though we never became friends again.

You finally understood. I came and I went in your life, but at least you changed for the better.