I've done alot of things I'm not proud of, but nothing really serious, or at least
nothing I can remember, a few stupid things as a child but nothing that could
compare to what the kids do these days without thought or regret. Naw, if it was
one thing I could erase from my past, it wouldn't be something I've done (I think all
I've done in my life makes me who I am today), but something I know. For the last
four years I've known that my "dad" isn't my father. Which in itself was a huge shock
to me. I confided in my sister about it, to find she already knew, to an extent.
She was told from my aunt, like a year before I found out, I found out from the same
aunt after it kinda slipped out from her, and I was "what?"
I thought about it alot, weighting things up from when I was a kid that would
either support what was said, not like I don't believe my aunt, but some of the things that
she says can be a little misguided, or just the wrong end of the stick. I thought about it
and decided not to say anything about it until I either knew for sure, all the while
playing it off like it wasn't true.
A year later all, I'd near forgot about it, it was all in the back of my head until I got
pulled to oneside from my sister who told me she was staying at another aunts who in turn said
the exact same thing about him not being my father. In my eyes that pretty much made
it official, and for another few weeks it was all I thought about. Looking back and
finding instances from when I was a child or a young teen where there were instances in
which it showed we weren't all that close, and eventually coming to terms with it. I'm still annoyed
about not being told by my mum yet, I have no idea what her reasons are for. Since
I've found out i've contemplated bringing it up with her. not really knowing how to tackle it
though, do I go in and take the victim approach, all offended, or do I get angry about it and force a
response from them?
Even now things bring it all back up and I reconsider mentioning I know, if only just to get an answer,
unfortunately, my family mean everything to me and I don't want to cause an argument or upset anyone.
When I thought about it I remembered him being there for as long as I can remember, things from
when I was about two years old and him doing things for me and one other instance when I was twelve.
I came to the conclusion that he isn't my father but he's definitely my dad. And tried not to
think about it very much.
If there was one thing I could erase from my past... it'd be that.