Not All of Them are Great

Everyone in there life has a father or father figure. Whether it be your biological father, step father, adopted father, or someone who has just been there for you since day one. No matter what, everyone has a father. But there is a difference between a father and a sperm donor. A father is someone who is there for you when you need them; they are someone who loves you no matter what. A sperm donor is a gentleman who just gives your mother a part of him that can make you. They can be a part of your life but not truly care for you. This is a story about the day my father died.

Growing up, my biological father (let's call him John) was in my life and was, to my eyes, a great father. He treated me great and gave me what love he would give. It wasn't until I was a freshman in high school that I started to see a different side of him. One day in science class my teacher asked us to make a timeline of our lives, so I did, and I asked my mother when she and John got divorced. She told me that it was three months after I was born, that the divorce was final. They seemed odd to me and then I asked her when he got remarried, and that was six months after I was born. That immediately threw up a huge read flag for me.

For a while after that, I didn't really ask too much about that kind of stuff. I was honestly afraid that there was more to that story that I really do not think I would have been able to handle at the time. Now we are to when I was 16 years old. I had moved out of my hometown to change schools. Life was doing fine and I was still working for my grandma at her restaurant and John was a cook there, as well. It was that school year that I started to see a different side to John. He had started dating this girl (we will call her Bri). Now, Bri was nice, but something didn't seem right about her. She kept to herself even though she apparently had two kids of her own.

After doing some research on Bri, I had found out that she was married still and had her kids. My first thought was that John didn't know, so I talked to my mom about it. My mom just gave me a really sad look and told me everything. She had already seen that she was married and told John. John had knew from day one apparently and did not care. Now I know that a lot of people in this world deal with this on a daily, but I grew up in a small town that didn't really have this stuff happen, and if it did, we knew about it right away (small towns gossip and gossip quick).

My stomach hurt at the thought that John would ever be okay with this, but with that, I could tell why I didn't get a good vibe from Bri and why I didn't want her around me and my little brother. So I confronted John and said that if he wanted to continue seeing me and my little brother then he needed to get rid of Bri. I wanted him happy, but I was not going to let that kind of person around my family. Mark was reluctant, but he agreed to stop seeing her. And for a while, we didn't see her. Bri's stuff had disappeared and we didn't hear much about her. I was happy.

Then, it was a few months later and John was on a trip to Delaware, but he let my brother stay in his house while my mother was stuck in the city for work. The night he was coming back from Delaware, he texted me saying what time he would be home, so we waited and while I was watching TV, I heard his car pull up. Then, instead of seeing him walk through the front door, Bri walked in. I was pissed. I texted my mother immediately to tell her. Not two seconds after that, he pulled me aside and asked me to not tell my mother. Oops...

A few minutes went by and John was settled in and he was looking at his phone. Then I caught his glance, and John was pissed. My mom had texted him to rip him a new one. We were supposed to stay another few days, but the next morning, I dug my car out of the snow and got my brother in the car and we went home. The roads were horrible, but I was not staying with someone who lies to me.

A couple of months passed and I was a day away from leaving for Florida with my family and best friend when John messaged me. He said he was sorry and that, when I got back from Florida, Bri would be gone. I didn't believe a word John said, so all I said was "Prove it." Then I didn't hear from him till a few weeks after I got back from my trip and he told me that Bri was gone and that he would like us to come over this weekend. I agreed and my brother and I went over for the weekend. Everything seemed back to normal and it looked like all of her stuff was gone, so we started going over there more.

It wasn't a month when I went over there with my brother and I saw something that made me want to break down and yell at John. I was changing my laundry and I saw that Bri's favorite pjs were in the dryer. John was at the store with my little brother so I had to wait till they got home, so while I waited, I looked closer around. I saw more and more that Bri's stuff was around the house again. So once they got home, I asked John if I could speak with him in private. The second I knew my little brother could not hear us, I yelled at him enough that it made me feel like I was going to cry, but I did not. I kept my ground and at the end I asked him, "Are you seeing Bri again?" He looked at me and lied. The second he did, I said, "Have a good life you *******."

I grabbed my brother and at 11 at night we left and drove to my mothers.

After that I didn't speak to him for a while. I still worked with him, but never really said much. It wasn't until months later when he came to work to switch with me and he stopped me and asked for me to just listen. Being the nice person I am, I stayed and listened. He started to go on about how sorry he was and how he was not talking to Bri anymore. I didn't believe him, not even a little bit. But then he started to tell me about his new girlfriend. I asked to see a picture of her, so he showed me. Now she was pretty and she was a local girl, so I knew her, somewhat. What I did know for sure was that she wasn't much older than me and John is older than me. So I asked him if he knew how much younger she was than him and his reply was that he knew that and he didn't care.

Now I know he said he didn't care, but my thought wasn't for him, it was for the town. I grew up in a small town where gossip is a huge thing, so I knew that the second the town got wind of this, everyone would be talking about it. And what I had thought had come true. The town was gossiping like a group of teen girls about the fact that John was sixteen years older than him new girlfriend (Dawn). The town was making jokes and everything. I couldn't go a day without someone telling me how the whole situation was messed up.

After really thinking about it, I decided to talk him. I told him about everything I was hearing. He didn't care. I told John how it was making me look like a laughing stock; zero humility to it. So finally I told John it was either Dawn or Me. That was the last time I heard from my biological father.

Since then, I have seen him a few times in person, but never said a word. I still do keep connection with that side of the family. I still go to Christmas with them, but I will never speak to that man again. He may have helped me grow up, but he will never be my father. Fathers do not give up their flesh and blood for someone they have only been seeing for a month.

Do I hurt from not seeing him? Of course. I still have nights where I cry myself to sleep because I will never understand why he would do this; why he would give up the daughter that is the most like him just for a girl who only wanted him because he has a penis.

If you ever have a father issue or a father that left you, or you never had one, do not feel alone. There are millions of us out there. It hurts, but it will get better. You just have to remember that the better you do, the more they will hate that they gave you up.