You Asked For It…

So what do you want a monologue for? You runnin’ short on judgment and need to catch up? Let’s face it, anything I say can and will be held against me in the court of dad. But you’re still going to wonder tomorrow or sometime why I don’t talk to you. You float that “son you can tell me anything” crap out there and wait for me to take the bait, but maybe I’m not as dumb as you think.

You really don’t get it do you, you want me to feel free to come out in the open and you don’t understand how I feel about that – probably like Middle Easterners feel about “peace-time.” They aren’t fooled, they know the Patriot Missiles are still close by.

What really gets me is the difference between how you view you and how you view me. I wish I had the guts to call you on it the next time you tell one of your high school stories. You know the ones when you “got away with it” or didn’t. What is obvious is that what you did is somehow different than what I’ve done or might do. You are aware you laugh at your “sins” right? But I’m sure that’s different, just like everything between us.

Sometimes I wonder if you have ever had a moment of appreciation for me that you didn’t chase with a “but…” It’s just too much to swallow me like I am. You always have to chase it with what I may or may not become or what I could have done better.

Do you even see me? I’m not really a disappointment you know – I’m a person. And from your stories, one pretty much like you. I can’t believe you’ve let me talk this long without “setting me straight on a few things.”

Now I’m listening.


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