The Open Canvas

Part 4

When i got home that day, i saw my father again sitting in his lazy chair reading the paper. The flipped the top half down with his thumb and looked up at me. "How was school?"

I nodded, "It was good. I talked to Daisy again. Its nice to be able to finally have someone to talk to."

He flipped the paper back up. "Huh."
His grunt sounded like it was filled with resentment.

"What?" I asked, wondering what i said.

"Someone to talk to," he said coldly. "Like... your parents maybe? People that care about you? Describe to me how you alone."

"What?!" I shouted. "You and mom wernt there to talk to me! As soon as I tried to say something you guys shipped me off to therapy like some freak so don't try to say you were 'there for me!'"

He threw his paper down and stood up from his chair in one swift movement. It was outputting and kind of frightening to see him move so fast. "What did you expect us to do? Do you have any idea what its like to see your only son come home every day depressed and silent for two whole years?!"

I stood there staring at him, a tinge of guilt stabbing me in the heart.

"Me and your mother tried to talk to you at first, you remember that?! All you did was stand there, make some snarky remark and them go in your room. After a whole month of doing that every single day, yeah we gave up on you. Then nothing. No idea what youre doing or what youre thinking
and then out of the freaking blue you tell us you're feeling suicidal. Should we have tried to talk to you then? We were scared, terrified that we'd wake up one day and you'd be lying on the floor dead! Do you have any idea what that feels like as a parent?!"

I looked down ashamed. I had never thought of how my parents felt about my situation.

"So yes, we sent you to therapy. We thought maybe if you wouldn't talk to us you'd talk to someone else, but all you did was go there and be as sarcastic as humanly possible and waste that therapists time and our money. So before you think the whole world's against you, why dont you open up your eyes and see the help right in front of you!"

He sighed and fell down in his chair. He leaned on his side and covered his eyes with his hand. "I've always wanted a good relationship with you. You've deprived me of having a friendship with my son. And now that you're starting to become more normal i still don't know if I'll ever have that."

I could feel tears trying to break through. I took in a breath of air and tried to hold them back. "I... i'm sorry. I didn't think about how you and mom would feel about it."

He didn't respond. Instead he grabbed his newspaper and picked up where he left off. I felt so guilty i couldn't stand to be in the same space as him so i went upstairs to my room, dragging my feet and thinking about how i tormented my parents, too self absorbed to even think about how they felt.

* * * *

After a two hours of me sitting on my bed thinking self deprecating thoughts, my father came into my room, slowly opening then closing the door behind him. He looked at me, masking his emotions like he usually did. He crossed his arms flexing his large forearms. "Hey," he started.

Looking at him in the eyes was painful. I felt terrible, like a self-absorbed narcissist. "Dad i'm sorry."

His expression didn't change, i decided to go on despite his lack of feedback.

"I was thinking about what you said and... you're right. It was inconsiderate to think nobody was ever there for me."

He made a satisfied, "Hmph" sound and waited for me to continue.

"I... I'd also like a friendship with you."

An expression rippled across his face but he covered whatever emotion he was feeling so fast i couldn't tell what he was thinking. "Well," he said, the slightest bit of happiness coming out in his voice, "I guess we're off to a pretty bad start but at least it's something."

"Hah, yeah..."

"Dinners ready by the way. Try and talk to your mom while your eating. She had it just as bad as i did, i'm sure she'd appreciate it if you tried to build a relationship with her as well."

I felt a strange sort of fulfillment from that statement. I was going to have a relationship with my parents. I had never wanted one before that moment but that's mainly because i never gave them a chance. I was such a depressing state but as i came more and more out of my shell, i started to realize all the things i was missing out on because i thought life had nothing to offer. I always thought life was a boring, blank canvas, but i never even made the effort to add some color to it.