I honestly believe my father's sorry, but being the sort of person he is, he would never admit it even if he were. Sometimes he comes up to me and asks me, "Every other father's little girl loves her father, why are you so cold to me?" And I reply, "How can you expect me not to be?" He asks me for hugs, telling me, "You see how [insert neighbor's name here] always gives her mother a hug before she goes to school. Why don't you?"
Life has gone on normally, and everyone in my house pretends nothing's ever happened. But whenever I try to give him a hug, my skin prickles and I remember how much I feared him at one point in time. I remember his harsh words and the scars on my back that make me afraid to wear swimsuits every summer. I simply can't do it, and even if I went through the motions, I can't feel it.
Life has gone on normally, and everyone in my house pretends nothing's ever happened. But whenever I try to give him a hug, my skin prickles and I remember how much I feared him at one point in time. I remember his harsh words and the scars on my back that make me afraid to wear swimsuits every summer. I simply can't do it, and even if I went through the motions, I can't feel it.
.
