I love him.
A childhood story on finding unconditional love during an unconventional moment
I sat underneath the bed; in the small gap between my bed and the floor, and cried uncontrollably — tears ran down my rosy cheeks in competition. “I hate you, you’re a failure!” I yelled at him. He became enraged; stomping around my hiding spot, unable to reach me. Occasionally, a hand would appear and try to grab me, but I easily dodged these futile attempts. You see, I was a tiny 4 year old with the flexibility of a spring. This was my domain, he had stepped into my arena.
The truth is no matter how much he tried becoming a professional painter, it never worked out. He tried everything, but eventually hit a glass ceiling and couldn’t move up. I was only throwing fuel into the fire when I ripped his favorite painting into tiny little pieces, all with a big smirk on my face. I was only 4 years old but I knew he cherished this particular painting, it was a self-portrait he made of himself in his glory days. Also, he told me never to touch it — well guess what? It’s been touched.
I kept dodging his attacks, which made him angrier. When he began lifting the bed up, my heart dropped. I like, never thought about this scenario — him lifting it up and getting to me that way. My life was in serious danger, a rush of adrenaline enveloped my body. I felt like a caged hamster, no where to go or hide. I closed my eyes, tighter and tighter. Everything stopped, the chaos suddenly subsided. I opened one eye to survey the room and nothing, he was gone. I thought this was all a trap until I realized the pieces of the painting had vanished.
I let out a sigh, this all started because he refused to get me the newest gaming console — so he had to pay, in another way. I almost died for a gaming console, well I felt like I was going to die. I loved him but didn’t he realize that my love wasn’t free? You need to get me things for my love, this was the unwritten rule that every 4 year old understood.
The painting was all glued together, perfectly. And weirdly enough, still in my reach. I felt a pat on my head and to my surprise, it was Dad. A big smile spread across his face and he pulled me closer, engulfing my tiny body into his warm embrace. I melted, I didn’t want the gaming console anymore — was it worth it? My childlike brain couldn’t understand the logic behind it all but my emotions understood.
Years later and we still laugh about this very day. By now, he’s taught me how to paint and we paint together, all the time. And I love to paint, he’s made me want to become a painter too. And the painting? We have no idea what happened to it.
