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i don’t have a dad that owns a big house, drives me in an expensive car, gives me 800 bucks a month or gives me every single piece of shit i want, all he could afford is a wife, two kids, a small flat for them, a normal weekend car, a lorry of his own for work and giving me just enough money to survive. to be honest, sometimes i will feel slightly irritated when he starts talking a lot to me, not the i-want-to-slam-the-door-at-him kind of, its maybe because i’ve long gotten used to the silence between us all the past years that its just not that comfortable for me to share more things. throughout these years, my relation with my mom hasn’t ever been called stable and sometimes when we fight, i would feel so suffocated i thought i might be better off dead. dad saw me leaving our home crying before on several occasion and then, all he could ask me was where i was heading to and all i could mutter was just, “downstairs”. he never stops me or probes more, i guess he knew i needed sometime alone. at times like that, sitting downstairs alone is better than sitting around at home. i thought dad never give a shit about mom and i being on bad terms on and off, mom always do her part of complaining and i never bothered to do mine, i thought he will always be with mom, i thought he never will (need to) care or understand. and everytime i think about this, i can’t help but to feel even more alone. but lately, he has been talking to me quite a lot, never the serious conversation kind of talk, just random things in the house, just things he never talk to me about before and since he is a generally funny person, its easy for him to say stupid things. every now and then when he senses some awkward atmosphere at home and when my petty mom happens to be in her room, he would come to me and ask me what happened, with a concerned look. although most of the time, i still don’t usually tell him exactly what happened but deep down i’m just glad that he was concerned and most of the times when he spoke, i just give him little replies when i don’t feel like talking more but deep down, i’m clear that my dad is just trying his best to make me feel less alone, and fill up the spaces or gaps that has been created btw me and everyone at home due to all these years of constant quarreling and misunderstandings. it felt like he didn’t mind any of those “little replies” i made, it felt like he understood why i’m still slightly reserved. and for all these, i’m so thankful that i will never mind continuing to live in a small flat, take his car and go wherever he wants to drive us to, continue spending more times at grandma’s, forego all the “every piece of shit i want” and just make do with whatever i can afford, as long as he stays healthy and happy. my life is quite hard to lead sometimes but i’m still happy i have one and how i’m learning while i grow and cry. tonight, dad and i, we had a tiny chat about the sour tangerines over my dinner tonight and i popped a few into my mouth after, even though i didn’t like the taste, just cause i want to and had to do so.