Sorry Dad

While writing a story I remembered about an event that happened two years ago. It is not very clear to me but even though the memory isn't clear, the feelings surrounding it are still easily felt.

It was during the spring/ summer of 2005, my ex was getting ready to go to uni (something which bothered me, I felt insecure about it as I wasn't the best catch anymore, I couldn't even go out). I felt very vulnerable and had no confidence. Even though I wanted people so much, to tell me things would be OK and to give me hugs, I pushed them away. I suppose I didn't feel as though I deserved hugs. I had let things get to far and I wished that I had faced up to things sooner, I hated who, or rather what I had become.

My dad, during that day was just trimming some of the things in the garden. This was something I usually did, being quite a keen gardener, it was something that I was naturally good at.

I think I just felt as though my dad was entering my space, it was the one thing I felt slightly good at. The thing is that I lost it with him. I shouted at him, I even through my book case over. Even thinking about this now is making my eyes start to water, I have never felt so ashed of myself, never dropped so low. I can still remember the look on his face as he walked out of my room. He had never seen me so angry and I think he was upset as he couldn't do anything about it.

The thing is, was that I was in the wrong. I was upset and I took it out on him, its not even my garden. Trouble is that I get myself so attached to things. i had become so angry and frustrated with my situation.

So dad, if you ever read this, then I'm sorry how I treated you that day. x