So, time to get emotional. Today I've had a lot of time to think and I remembered something. I have a dad. Yeah, that sounds stupid. Of course I have a dad. Let me explain.
When my mom was 20 she met a man named Matthew Bazy. Also known as my biological father. He never really was a great guy. He wasn't horrible by typical standards. He didn't hit me, yell at me, or even abandon me. Well, not right away at least. My mom realized that he was kind of a douche and decided that she was done with him, but not before she had me. Throughout my elementary school days I would spend every Wednesday and every other weekend with him.
There's one point in my life that's pretty clear to me of how little he cared from the beginning. When I was seven years old I was diagnosed with Type One Diabetes. The kind that comes from genetics, not being fat. Anyways, you would think that any typical parent would stick around and be really concerned and want to make sure that their child would be okay. Maybe even support them through this difficult time? Nah, let's just pack up and move across the country to New York City three months after your child is diagnosed. No big deal. I guess we can all tell that I'm still a little bitter about that. Not even so much bitter, just confused. How could you possibly be so... cold? That's the only word I have for it. Cold. Your only child just nearly died and rather than realizing that maybe, just maybe, you should spend a little more time with them, you leave.
Now as if that isn't bad enough after that he started trying to buy my love. To this day there is nothing I hate more than people trying to buy my love or forgiveness. Don't get me wrong, I'll accept. But I'll also be laughing inside at how stupid you are. I like genuine people. Not money. He bought me a cell phone when I was in the fourth grade. Now, maybe that isn't so much of a big deal now with kids walking around with iPad's all over the place, but this wasn't quite so common back then. And yeah, I thought it was awesome. But I soon saw through it. Especially when he got angry at ME, a fourth grader, for not calling him more often. I'm sorry. Who is the adult here? Phone works both ways sweetheart.
So here we are now. He moved back to Texas but I never really spent time with him. Last time I saw him was the beginning of my junior year. He didn't remember that I was on my schools drill team. He didn't remember what grade I was in. He didn't even remember how old I was. Needless to say he wasn't at my graduation. He doesn't know that I go to OU. I honestly don't even know if he's still alive. And you know what's horrible? I don't really care. I mean, I care whether or not he's alive. But if he wasn't I wouldn't really feel like I was losing anything. I honestly forget he exist's 95% of the time. And when I remember I don't really have any emotion about it. That sounds heartless and horrible, but it's the truth.
I got really lucky. My Stepdad, Jason, is more than I could ever ask for in a parent. Even compared to if he were my biological father, he goes above and beyond. He loves me to the moon and back and I know that he would take a bullet for me. I couldn't have asked for anyone better or more special to be my dad. I feel horrible sometimes because I'm in the habit of calling him Jason. I know in my heart that he is my dad. I just hope that he knows that too.
To Matthew: You're missing out. I don't know where you are. I don't know what you're doing. But I do know that as far as I know you've pushed away everyone that has loved you. I will take your mistakes and learn from them. I will love passionately and without fear from here on out. I will put myself out there. When I find someone worth being in my life, I will make sure they know that they are loved. I'm doing fine without you. But I'm sorry that you made these choices. I wish you the best. But I wish you the best away from me. You need me. I don't need you.
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