What. The. Fuck.

Here's a cool rant. My father is a fucking idiot. He has NEVER been in my life. Scratch the maybe 6 or 8 fucking months he decided he would 'change and be there for us and be better.' Yeah, right. My sister has a different father than me and my older brother. Her father is actually in her life. He is an amazing father, as much as he can be from long-distance, and it's lovely.

I, however, grew up without a father. My father figure was my older brother, which I think at times was hard for him because he is human, he was a teenager, he was going to make mistakes. But in general, it was okay. I seem to have grown up mostly fine....I say mostly because I have some issues, though they do not surround my fatherless childhood.

I got presents at christmas when I was very young, but nothing more. He never paid my mother child support for either of us. My mom was pretty much stuck. This one year, one fucking year, when my older brother was getting older and I was getting older, that he thought we wouldn`t get it if he tried to `be a father` now. The sad thing is, I was only 12. So I was young enough to not quite get it, yet deep down understand not to hold hope because this shit wouldn`t last.

He started trying to contact us. We MSN`d like everyday for about four months. He became a part of our lives, in a way. We didn`t share too much, but there was no mistake that I now knew my fathers name and his family`s names and just in general, knew who this mysterious character is. He decided to tell my brother and I that he had booked a flight for us to visit that summer, all the way to alberta from nova scotia. We had no choice but to say yes.

My brother was busy the first half of the summer, but I was not. I went for the entire length of summer, and he went for the last half. I can remember perfectly packing my bags, unsure of anything, and thinking, `am I finally going to get my father back?' I was so innocent and had no idea that really, this was just his attempt to say he did so.

Halfway into the summer I was having so much fun, and my brother came up. The other half flew by. We had a lot of fun, and things seemed to be getting better yet weird. Our father was now someone we cared about. Whether we wanted it or not. I actually slept in his bed with him stroking my hair as I fell asleep my last night there, because I was sad to leave him. I cried. CRIED. Because I finally got my daddy, and now he was gone again.

After we were home and school started again, nothing was changing. I was keeping my little flame of hope lit, just enough for me to see but no one else to call me out on. My first experiences with showing a hard shell but being soft on the inside.

After maybe two months, contact was decreasing. A few months later, a phone call and card for christmas, and ta-daa! Contact gone. Dead. Like Houdini, my father had disappeared again.

Except, we had him added on facebook, and he tries to post us something on holidays as if he still cares. His new family is his by choice family. We're just something he has on his conscience, wanting to feel like it's okay not to be guilty. I will never let myself think otherwise, because when I did, he was gone again.

What I hate most, is that under his family, my step-brother is listed as his son. He isn't my fathers son. And my fathers real son, my brother. Not listed at all. Neither am I, but I could live without a father. I have been fine. My brother...I think it's hard for him yet not. He has forever, but knowing that he has more memories, sucks. At the same time, he knows his little sister will always look up to him as her father figure.

And my 'real' father, has the fucking nerve to try and post on my brothers wall to say "happy birthday, hope it is great, love dad." Nice fucking try, prick. You are no father, you never have been and never will be. Don't make your stupid excuses and expect us to 'love' you. I don't care what your reasons were for leaving. I don't care how far away you are. I care that my entire life, you never BOTHERED to mail or pick up a phone. And you are so fake now. You say come visit again, I say, try calling me and asking how old I am first. I bet you don't even fucking care.

Don't pretend you want to love us, because we know better. We know that we are of no importance to you. We know that you merely wish us to be off of your conscience, so you can live without that small teeny morsel of regret.

Go ahead, live. I don't want you. I hope you choke on a fucking big mac, or something to that effect.

Tomorrow, I will be eating dinner with my REAL father, my big brother, celebrating his 21st birthday, and loving every minute of it.