Drops of water, drops of blood.

I gave my father a hard time. Not to my mom, nor to my grandma, nor to my brothers, nor to my friends. I gave My father a hard time when you left. 

I put on him your faults and my faults & I vent all my anger and pain on him... To you? What I did to you after our break-up is nothing compared to what I did to him. I broke my father’s heart in pieces, I ripped it out so many times and in some many ways that it reached a point where he couldn’t take it anymore and shed tears over me. I was so insensitive that he almost lost his mind on me. 

I put on him faults that didn’t really belong to him because I needed to get rid of all my anger and sorrow, and the only person willing to bear with it seemed to be him. He was willing to pay for sins that weren't his.

I refused to look at him in the eyes, I kept a distance, I remained cold and absent, and oh dear Lord! God knows well I am my father’s joy! I took it all from me on him for the sake of my pointless revenge. 

I’d like to excuse myself by saying I wasn’t aware of my treatments towards him and certainly at the beginning I wasn’t! But once I became aware nothing changed, nothing but a constant feeling of helpless compassion towards him and growing guilt for me.

Couldn’t I see his efforts for bringing me back to my usual self? Couldn’t I feel his overflowed love towards me? Couldn’t I understand his obvious despair? I did. But nothing stopped me nor took me out from the dark hollow I cave for myself where his entrance wasn’t allowed. Even if unconsciously I couldn’t forgive him for not having taught me how to keep you, I couldn’t forgive him his lack of support toward us, I couldn’t forgive his silence over our separation; I couldn’t forgive his insensitivity and as a result, I became insensitive myself towards him. 

I had him telling me he feels sorry for our decision, despite knowing how hard it was for him to let me go and while looking straight into his eyes and with a broken voice I told him he could never understand how hard it was for me losing you and how even after about a year you continued aching deep inside of me. I couldn’t have been less insensitive to him than what you were toward me. And as noble and sweet my father is, he just endured my blameable behaviors towards him for more than a year. 
Has he forgiven all that I did to him out of rage? Till today he keeps on doing anything that would be good for me even if it’s heartbreaking for him, so I’d say he doesn’t even count my faults with him... Do I forgive myself? I understand my reasons and I comfort my conscience with a bunch of explanations that will never justify how horrible I was towards the only man in the whole world that would give until his very last drop of blood for me. 

And as ridiculous as it sounds, you’d continue making fun of my feelings while claiming it’s nothing but a whim. Do I forgive you for your treatments towards me? That relentless coldness and such despicable harshness? As my father and I are like two drops of water, till today and despite my mixed feelings, I’d give until the very last drop of my now-wrecked-blood for you.