What I See In You

If there was one thing I could take back it would be misjudging you.

You went through more than I could ever imagine and I didn't even get to see things from your perspective. I'm sorry dad.

"SO what is it that you're cooking?" my dad asks and I just shrug my shoulders. "What?" He asked and I kept silent as I looked into his eyes Oh my why is this weird girl staring into my soul. I think of nothing worthy. I'm tired. Super tired and just want to sleep all day.

"If you're tired, then you should really consider going to sleep. Don't force yourself to stay awake."

"No I can. I got this, okay sweetheart." Darn how did she know?

"Dad?"

"Huh?"

"Just go to bed already."

"But-"

"No buts. You need your beauty sleep too. I want you to start living for yourself and take care of your body. I want another mom as well."

"What?! Another mom? Sweetie you sure you are good?" Actually I'm gay. Thank the lord she doesn't know.

"What dad?"

"Uh.... What?"

"Did you-?"

"Did I...?"

"Nevermind just go. I'll take it from here." He pecks my forehead and walks away from the kitchen and making it over to his bed. My dad and I live in a small apartment complex and although there isn't much besides rough brown carpets with rough edges that if no one's careful cruising your sole can be stabbed by a small sharp fragment that sticks out, stale popcorn walls, and the most cheapest refurnished furniture- I'm now living a comfortable and satisfied life with my dad.

Before I could see into what my dad was thinking, I used to be ungrateful towards him. "No dad! I don't care about what you think! I'm heading out!" I shouted.

"But where?! Just let me know where you are going?!" He screamed and honestly I had enough of him controlling what I can and can't do in my life. Always nagging and complaining about every single little imperfection I do.

"No dad! I'm perfectly fine and capable of managing things on my own! What is it that you keep interfering with my life?!"

"It's because I'm worried! Please don't go! Just not now!" He pulls on my forearm, trying to prevent me from leaving out the door, but I push back and he dramatically falls down. Time felt slower and the air felt heavier, but my mind ran faster and before I knew it I was outside stomping my shoes against the sun burnt concrete with my bag hanging on my right shoulder. I kept running and eventually I'm at where I am.

I see my friends from across the street and I wave over to them. They wave back and I wait for the streetlight to enable me to walk. As the timer was at four seconds, I thought it would be brilliant to start walking now, but before I knew it, I felt a heavy impact on my leg and I start backing away and landed on my head... now gushing with blood and I take in a few deep breaths before my eyes lost in the battle to stay awake.

Once I did try hard to open my eyes, I felt a numbness over me and I look over to my left to see my father, who held my bandaged left hand tightly and he fell asleep on top of it.

How long was he waiting here for?

Then suddenly I hear him, When will she wake up?

For a second I thought my dad started to sleep talk, which I never knew he could because after all this time I was at home, I never heard him having such a habit.

He suddenly opened his eyes and sluggishly got his body to uncoil to see me with a shocked expression, shaping his lips to be a Cheerio. She's awake! SHE'S AWAKE! He didn't even move his lips.

"How are you feeling?" He asked calmly and I simply close my eyes to indicate that I'm okay, but I'm too tired to use my energy.

So I can listen to his mind. But how?

He looked away from me for a moment and I tried really hard again to read his mind, but nothing came up. "So sweetie, I'll go call the doctor to say you're awake. Do you need me to get..." He looks at me "An...ee,,thing?" I see into his eyes and I hear Why is this girl staring at me? Did I do something wrong? Was I too demanding?

And that's when I learned that I can read my dad's thoughts just by looking into his eyes and not saying anything.

Too bad I can't telepathically communicate to him, but then again that might be a good thing since I don't want him to know about my embarrassing thoughts.

"I'm good dad. I just want to go to sleep." I say and he gets it. "Okay let me know if you need anything okay sweetheart?" He kindly pets my hair strands out of my face and I smile. I'm grateful that you're alive. I don't want to lose you like I lost your mom.

Even though I told him I was tired, after hearing him think that I couldn't help but stay awake picking at many questions. Who is my mom? How did she die?

And over the years, I learned just by silently observing my dad's eyes. He was never my true father. In fact, my mom and dad fell in love in their early twenties and my dad at that time had big plans to be successful, while my mom wanted to settle down quickly before her parents force her to go on dates and choose a man before she becomes twenty-three.

So my dad tried to ask consent to propose for her hand in marriage, but when they started pouring down the questions about his intentions and plans, he couldn't give them a satisfactory answer.

Thus, they split for a short period of time. My mom got married to another man and had me. My biological father on the other hand was trash as I heard he left my mom and she died of heartbreak from failing in life, but gave me away to the dad who raised me now, in hopes that I won't have my life controlled around like her parents had and where I can choose which path I align myself to.

Once I processed all this, I felt immense pain and guilt for treating him in such a manner. He looked after me when he didn't even have to and I'm more than grateful that he does.

I did open up to him more about my life and he was more than supportive. He watches me at my tournament matches, skating against professionals and supports me heavily for what I do.

I'm happy that he thinks that way and I understand why I get to hear him instead of the other way around.

He's not the type to directly say how he's feeling and thus I get to know just by every eye contact. My dad at first felt creeped out by it, but he also started to turn it into stupid staring contests to which I fail to win because he sometimes thinks of the most idiotic yet hilarious thoughts.

For example, when we did have a staring contest, in the middle of it, he thought wow I wonder if Mr. Robinson secretly knew that I think hitting his potbelly would be an excellent collection to add to my repertoire of sounds I collect?

I cracked up as soon as I heard him saying that and I make sure to keep the staring to a minimum.

Still...

"So what's for dinner?" I gain focus on the conversation as I'm seated at the dining table. Is she sick today?

"Uh.. no... sorry it's Pasta Puttanesca. Try it."

"Okay I will." I'm nervous. What did she do to this pasta?

"Dad just try it!" I stir him up and he put the fork of pasta in his mouth before moaning, "Hey! Not bad!" It's just like your mother's. You don't know how happy I am to eat homemade food again.

"Dad?" I say to him to which he looked at me "Yes sweetheart?"

"I love you." I say to him to which he nervously chuckles "I- love you too." Okay yeah something's going on with her.

I chuckled a bit to his response and he just looks at me weirdly... not understanding that I can't filter out his thought until I looked away as we both peacefully finish eating dinner.