Absent Father

No Love Lost, No Love Found That paternity and daughter bond, the sweetest live Ive neer wear upon. Ive seen my novice wholly(prenominal)whither a thousand convictions wondering if hes ever seen me. Looking with his eyes con billetrable shut. It seemed as if over the years he was disappearing, fade into the black. A fragment of what I public opinion I needed besides in all existence became as pointless as the conclusion to discussion that Ill never finish My father has managed for xviii years to be a part of my liveness with come out of the closet being a part of my life. He lives properly around the corner from me in a two story home thats painted inflame br let.It numerateed comparable s fluffy double encompassing-bosomed pancakes and when the sun hit the sa rateite dish on the top of the roof it made the top half(prenominal) of the house shine the likes of syrup ravel off the top. For a while all I knew my father by was this house, I got ideas of what he magnate be like by looking at this house. I thought of him as a in force(p) bodied man because instead of having one front door he had two. So I thought maybe he couldnt fit with just one. I imagined him as a square wide bodied linebacker with a well-off side due to the item that he had a colorful well-kept garden on the side of the house.The day I met my popping not my father who had raised me but my dad. I truly effected that I was imagining him with my heart and not my mind. He stood as tall as a palm maneuver sighting beach side, with arms as coarse as a boardwalk. He never take down attempted to say a word to me or ask me how I was doing in school. Instead he pieced me with his beany brown eyes that appeared to be procession off of a yellow back drop. He looked at me as if I had stolen his joy. I reached out to hug him but he reached out his tip over for me to shake instead. His fingers tangle like ice cycles sharp-worded my skin.I thought to myself how someon e with such a strong appearance could be so cold on the inside. Sad to say, I know this doesnt salutary like the best first impression but over the years as bad as our first encounter was it was the best one yet. Because from here on out my so called daddy began to look a lot much like George majuscule and Andrew Johnson. All I saw of him was the money he sent every month. Even though my dad may occupy stopped looking at me I kept my eye on him. analogous I said earlier he lived expert around the corner from me. I could lookout my sleeping room window and see directly into his backyard.I would watch his every move like if he were my favorite TV show. He moved very quickly like a fire running through a dry forest. It was like he moved so quickly but looked as if he took his time because he was so smooth with it. All he did was go to work, watch late night re runs of games, and order out. At least thats all I got from watching through his backyard, trash and glide glass door. He was so consistent like just as sure as Monday was approach after Sunday. He was very predictable, I felt as if Id seen enough. I know this may not sound like more than but this is all I knew of my father.I havent seen or looked for him in three years. I never even knew his name. I named him Randy due to the fact that IM his only child and my name is Brandy. I may have never got to have a full blown out conversation withRandy I know we are nothing alike. He is so empty. A cactus in the desert would have more life then he did. I never understood why or how my very own father could be so cold and passionless towards me. But one thing I learned from my father was to appreciate what I do have and to stop worrying about what I dont have. So if you were to ask me about my father today I will simply tell you Out of sight out of mind.