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I’m not going to tell anyone to read it either. It wasn’t intended for that. Just intended to talk to someone. To really write to God and sort out some stuff.

So it’s not looking for attention. Just needed to vent.

The Scientist

I normally don’t come on here much, let alone post on here anymore. So the probability of someone seeing this is quite slim, but I’m quite alright with that.

You ever just need to write to someone, and just didn’t have anyone in particular to write to, just the world? Or better yet, just to write to your own content, that you can gain a peace within yourself? Or lack there of such a peace?

I’m currently listening to this song, “The Scientist”, by Coldplay. But right now, I’m listening to a cover of it by Willie Nelson.

Weird, huh?

Anyway, I always had my own interpretation of this song. I heard it was written to his father (the lead singer) as an apology, but also as a realization that neither of them had a good relationship. Now whether or not this rumor is true, I digress.

Like I said, I’m listening to Willie Nelson’s cover of it. Obviously, it’s more country than I’m used to, but a very nice taste for a musical great. So while I listen to it on YouTube, I decide to look at the top comment. The comment says the following: “Bitter sweet. What a beautiful song, but it reminds me of when Johnny Cash sang Hurt. He didn’t have long after that. I grew up listening to my dad sing these guys’ songs. Now daddy’s gone, Johnny’s gone, Waylon’s gone, and Willie is singing one of the most beautiful covers out there. Just a sad story to watch legends die.”

So all of a sudden, it hit me like a ton of bricks.

My interpretation of this song, about his father, was not an interpretation, but really my own life.

My father and I never really had the greatest relationship. I look back on many moments, like for instance, I was never taught how to ride a bike. My father just never seemed to care. I can’t recall ever getting a hug from him as a child. Why? Because I never got to feel that type of embrace. Or the fact that my brother was his favorite kid, and that all I ever did was mess up. I remember constant yelling, constant degrading, but even worse? The constant loneliness I felt even though he sat on that couch.

Now I could never say he wasn’t a hard worker and provider, because he was. Although, like this song states, so much focus was on work (or a passion or past time) that so many things were missed out on. To this day, I find it weird when someone tells their parents that they love them, or that they hear it. I’m just not used to it.

While listening to this song, I think of the greatest moments, and the worst.

I remember sitting in front of the TV playing Mario Party, Mario Kart, Kirby 64, games like that. Only time I ever honestly felt like my family loved me while growing up. And I’m not trying to say that my family is horrendous or anything like that. Just, never felt a part of this family.

There were some great moments though. The time after I tried to kill myself and he took interest in my writings. I remember him asking to see them and read them all. Only time he ever did though. But I still remember it vividly. Or the time when I first got a medal for Fine Arts Nationals. He was so awkward coming into the room, I really don’t remember what he was trying to break the ice with, but he couldn’t even look at me. He eventually grabbed my medal and told me he was proud of me.


Of me?

I had waited my whole life to hear that. But to be completely honest, I haven’t heard it since.

But onto the song. I learned some things about my father recently. How him and I are more alike than I had thought. Let alone, I found out something that shocked me. Although I honestly can’t tell that, since it’s a secret that I’m forced to keep.

As I listen to this song, I think about that day on his death bed. Thinking about not only all the time he wasn’t there for me, but the times I wasn’t there for him. How I left him alone in that house. With no one. I went to college and rarely spoke to him. As this song states “I was just guessing, at numbers and figures. Pulling the puzzles apart. Questions of science, science and progress. Don’t speak as loud as my heart”. I think of this as when I went to college, that I abandoned him, and didn’t speak to him. Honestly, I felt like I was him. Doing my own hing, to provide for myself. He knew how I felt, so what more was there to say?

Have you ever looked into your father’s eyes when he spoke about how much he wanted to give up? And I don’t mean just “give up working” or something like that. But wanted to give up on life. He had nothing in his eyes but remorse and emptiness. I knew what he talked about when he said he was ready to give up. I saw that he viewed death as an only option. And I was at a loss for words. My mother doesn’t know we had that conversation. Nor does anyone else for that matter. It was a chilling experience.

And as I sit here and listen to this, I realize, I have done absolutely nothing to fix this. I became like him. Someone who provides and really lost himself.

I just want to have some good memories with him. I just want to hear him say that he loves me on his own. That he’s actually proud of what I’ve done with my life. That he actually asks me to hang out. Heck, even if he wanted to finally teach me how to ride a bike. I honestly probably could learn, but I think it’s the emotional damage that he didn’t care enough that keeps me from it.

He’s told me he loved me, but that was when I left for college.

The exact day.

And I could say nothing back.

Our relationship is pretty much non-existent. I actually am slightly jealous for my brother and sister, because he actually talks to them. He’s actually intrigued by what they do in school, with their free time, all that.

I’d just be happy if we could try to fix some things, but I truly don’t know a way to.

And honestly, I fear that by the time I figure out some ways to have good memories, it will be too late. And all I will want to do is go back to the start.

Because even though I couldn’t feel him, I could at least see him then.

He had trouble showing love towards me, and I’m thankful he is trying with my brother and sister. That’s a tremendous blessing for them, and I hope and pray that they don’t take it for granted. Because I would kill for an opportunity for my father to show a deep interest in my life. To actually WANT to spend time with me. To WANT me around. I never felt that, but I see him try it with Ryan and Carly.

I don’t know. I really don’t. All I ever wanted was to be loved as a child, to hear it every day. Or usually. Heck, before I was 18 at least.

So because of him, I at least will do that with my own kids. Let them know how much they mean to daddy. That I do love them. That I hold them as my 1st priority.

But before I could ever become a father, I need to learn how to gain a relationship with my own. It’s not his fault. It’s just, I really don’t know what to say. What to do. How to impress him.

Heck, I remember after he read my writings, I wrote a song EXACTLY for him. Poured out my heart and soul. Waited for him to ask what else I came up with. But I was without that request. So that paper earned it’s wrinkles. It earned it’s tear stained rips. It earned the countless nights of praying I would be able to tell he loved me.

But you know what?

I’m sorry Dad.

I’m sorry that I wasn’t perfect. I’m sorry I never really tried with you either. I’m sorry I allowed bitterness within my heart to reject when you told me you loved me. I’m sorry I wasted 20 years without letting you know how I feel. I’m sorry I disappointed you while growing up.

This isn’t about my past. It’s about wounds that have never healed. And I really don’t know how to heal them. I’ve refrained from writing a few things, but I just needed to get this out there. And I could never tell him this. Because I don’t know how to.

So I’m writing to the screen right now. Bearing my own scars right now.

And some people may read this, laugh, make fun, mock, but I could care less.

Because I’d rather try to move forward than let my wounds continue to bleed out.

So, Dad, can we please go back to the start?

Please, Daddy?


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“How I inform my friends that they have left clothing at my place.”


“How I inform my friends that they have left clothing at my place.”

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lol kinda related to an inside joke between me and my friend


lol kinda related to an inside joke between me and my friend

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