Where there's a will, there's a way

I had a dad

After my discharge from the army, I decided to use the time on my hands to go looking for my dad, and it didn’t take that long to find him. Not when you consider l hadn’t laid eyes on him since I was five. Mom claimed to have a vague idea where he might be, but I discovered, after the fact, that she’d known exactly where he f**king was, since day one. I’m not sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing, but I wasn’t too happy about it at the time

When I found him, and again, I’m not sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Realising that he’d lived within 10 km of me, the whole f**king time I was in William Clark Gardens, and hadn’t made any attempt to visit me, not even once, well that wasn’t a good thing either.

Finding out we had a half-sister (thanks to Tiny) wasn’t a bad thing. I would have liked to at least meet her, but that probably wouldn’t have been a good thing.

His inane excuses and his undeniable talent to lay the blame on anyone or everyone, other than himself. Well, that wasn’t a good thing either.

The saddest f**king thing about me finding my long-lost dad is that I felt nothing at all. No feelings of joy, no empathy, no sympathy, no bitterness, no anything. Was that a bad thing?

I did know, however, that I didn’t like the person I’d found and now I didn’t know what the f**k to do about him, for him or with him.

So l just did what came naturally to me and thought, ‘f**k him,’ shutting him out of my life forever. Do I regret that moment, sometimes yes, but not really. He was a complete stranger after all.