You taught me things that regular fathers could not. Not every father is completely similar, yet there they are, common in thought and perspective.
You taught me that fathers are cruel.
You taught me that you were capable of being a loving person yet did not want to show it.
You taught me that face is important when it really isn’t.
You gave me things, many things. Some were useful while some were not so useful. Nothing you gave me were completely useless as each thing had their own special perk to bring to the table.
You gave me things that I wanted and not things that I needed. For that, I am grateful. People would think that that is bad thing, it isn’t entirely bad. By giving me the things I wanted instead of what I needed, you showed me things that I didn’t really need but was perceived as necessary in society such as a functional family. You also made me want more than I have, thus giving birth to my drive for ambition; you made me want things that were out of my league, you made me dream bigger.
You also tend to assume things about me. Some were correct, some were wrong.
You think you know who I am when you don’t. You know my behaviour past and present but you never knew why I ceased to be that smiling child. I never knew that you never knew until you caught me smiling at a joke to which you remarked that you have not seen me smile in a long time. You know the person I am on the exterior but on the interior, you know nothing. The person that I truly am is the person that lives in my mind, he also operates my brain and soul. The person on the exterior could be many different things or even a combination of different people. Don’t trust the person on the exterior.
You think that I love books. You are right about that.
You think that I might be gay. You are also right about that.
You think you love your children equally. I disagree.
You think you brought me up right. Your methods were not right in my eyes but hey, I turned out alright.
Last of all, you think that I love you.