Why can’t I hold my Daddy’s hand walking down the street?! Why is it that this vault is empty, no deposits of life lessons, laughs, memories, encouragement or disapproval?! Trying to fill a void that was missing all along. Begging and pleading to have a father figure in my life. The loneliness, unwanted feeling, the insecurities and low-self esteem. Never had I imagined my life to feel like a stray cat. Everyone wants that perfect love story, but did he? My intentions were pure, my love was real. As time---years, month, hours, minutes, seconds went by, bitterness increases, tensions in my own households rise because I couldn’t accept who my Mother would marry. I wouldn’t accept real and true love when it came my way because of this monster who had these chains on me, who put me away in a chamber where no one could find me. Conviction and guilt? Did he feel that at nights when every tear fell upon my pillow? He’s too busy raising “his family!” A wife, and 4 children. Those rascals aren’t his but he claims them.
“His wife?! “You cannot turn a hoe into a housewife!” I blurted out.
“Oops, did I just say that?” hoping no one heard that, settling my anger down a few notches, but not that much. I’m raging, a beast is what he created.
“I should be his top priority!” All these thoughts wracking my brain late nights, no one to hear my silent scream. Silent scream for the love, for a father to hold his daughter when something upsets her. All I wanted was the love. Materialism meant nothing to me! When my Mama needed help, he was not there. My Mama was the one who brought home the bacon. Out of this whole 16 years of my life, my dad only spent $130 towards me.
“Is that all I’m worth?!” barely getting any words out, mumbling, moaning as tears roll down these plump cheeks of mine. This heart of mine hurts. The pain is agonizing, this pain is indescribable. Not realizing I’ve been hurting for years but it’s now starting to take control, even a blind bat could realize it. Jealousy started to occur. My friends had a father figure in their life and lived in the same household. Their relationship was outstanding, they may have had fights but the love was unchangeable. Lost relationships with friends because the pain and hurt took over. My friends didn’t know what happened to the real La’Kei. I never talked about my dad. It was all surface things, never detailed.
Unnoticing, daylight had came across the horizon. Wiping the tears from my dry face, decided to shower and get dressed. Didn’t have any plans but wanted to go out and get some fresh air. Didn’t want that dead beat on my mind. During this trauma, I lost myself and who I was. Looked in the mirror everyday and was looking at a different person. My reflection was even different. My curves and the way I viewed myself shifted and changed. I was not La’Kei, not who my Mama birthed me to be.
Leaving the house after all these thoughts in the shower and as I was getting dressed, decided to get my unborn niece some things because my sister baby shower was slowly but surely approaching. The mall was a couple minutes away from my house, so I caught the bus. Wasn’t bothering or becoming a pest to the community because I was hurting. Bus ride was over and it stopped right in front of the mall, walked around a little bit, grabbing a bite to eat and on my way to the baby store. A sale was going on and I decided to get all these baby clothes and cute little toys. Suddenly, bumping into a man, a really large man. Clothes went everywhere drastically!
“Excuse me, I’m sorry,” he said in a well mannered tone. Helping me gather all the items I picked out. Never once looked up until the clothes were placed into my arms.
Thinking to myself, “This voice sounds familiar, nah! Who am I kidding!”
Looking up, it was him! It was the man that I hated for so long. Emotions building, changes of complexions occurred, face turning red, eyes widening like a bull, tears about to flow.
“Pull it together, La’Kei,” pondering unto myself.
“La’Kei?” hesitantly Locky says. He haven’t seen me since I were 8 years old. He couldn’t even recognize his own child.
“Well yes, it is me.” sarcastically I replied. “Long time, no see.” Eye contact never broke. You could tell he was very surprised and I caught him unexpectedly. My eye caught attention to these bad ass little rascals running around the store and a woman yelling for them to stop. I already knew who they were.
“How are you?” Talking to me like I was his colleague he hasn’t seen since graduation.
“I am quite alright.” Fixing my jacket in a stubborn way, but gracefully flipping my hair that he didn’t compliment. It was quiet. Silence suddenly took over.
Blurting out, “What have I done, to why you cannot be in my life?!”
Can’t believe I said that, but I did not care. I’ve been holding this anger in for so long. I just wanted all my unanswered questions to be answered once and for all. He stood there with a blank stare. Looking dumb because he must’ve thought I had to keep quiet and keep my feelings on “hush!” I need answers, this moment, at this time. He had nothing to say. I began to do the talking. I was in charge of this conversation at the moment. Tears began to flow, couldn’t hold them back any longer. I wanted him to see the pain, feel the pain. Wanted him to see why I’m so hurt. Wanted him to blame for my unhappiness, distraughtness, and not feeling loved.
“Let’s take a walk.” he said concerned.
I agreed. Told him everything I felt. I even brought up the incident when the doctors thought I wasn’t going to make it through the night and told my Mom to start making funeral arrangements. He never showed up to say his last goodbye’s. Wondering and asking where’s my dad, no one had answers. Or even when you were getting high, you kidnapped me and I had to be taken into foster care because the state didn’t trust my mother or you! The “secrets” you told me to be kept a secret, never once untold. You considered me as the black sheep. Publicly humiliated, ridiculed, and stripped of womanhood.
“There’s no love in this relationship, the trust is weak. Obviously, you have other things more important to take care of,” as I said in a quivering voice. “What if I was playing the Father role and decided to walk out? How would you feel?” angrily speaking. “What if we changed shifts and I decide to come back later?” I said in a bittersweet voice. The rasp in my voice started to increase and the quiver in my voice started to shake. Eagerly ready to take a hold of this hurt and get rid of it for good. This hurt was the root of all the evil and negativity that was caused in my life.
“I want you to realize you’ve caused this hurt, that you’ve made me bitter and made me hate you!” tears steady rolling, no control of these true tears. “I hated myself because of you.” exploding inside, redness in my face could tell it all. “Is this how you want to see me?” I shouted. “Why do you want to see me hurt? Why are intentionally hurting me? But perpetually thinking I knew better, I was better at what I knew and like Marvin Gaye would say, ‘I needed that sexually healing’ just a temporary feeling.”
Finally, he cleared his chest because he felt the knives going in and out of his throat, constantly bleeding from the words that I spoke.
“It was never intentional!” he yelled in denial.
“So what was it?” pissed because he still continuing to lie, right to my face. It was so that I fell for this trap. Nothing was going to get out of this conversation but me yelling and catching a headache--so I thought.
“Baby girl, let’s talk about this over dinner tonight?” he spoke in a soft manner, gentle but this was going to be a another disappointment. Never once heard him call me that, just trying to flatter or telling me what I wanted to hear. I agreed to this proposal. His hoe ass wife rushing our conversation. I brushed it off because she’s the least of my concerns. We then exchanged numbers, I believe he changed his number so I wouldn’t call. However, we hugged and went about our day. The way he held me when we hugged was all that I had ever wanted from him but never got.
“Was it real?” at that moment I didn’t care, thinking to myself. I forgot the reason why I went to the mall, so I just grabbed myself some boots. Leaving the mall, I caught the 12:45 bus and went along home. Walking through my double door house, went straight upstairs to my room. My cell phone went buzzing, “Look who it is.” whispered to myself. It was the man who I labeled as “sperm donor.”
A text message appeared and said, “Dinner--can’t make it.” As I threw my phone towards the walls. I knew it was going to be some excuse. Not even an hour after we had our conversation and he cancels. Just getting my hopes up.
“He just set me up for failure!” hurting while on my knees crying, yelling out loudly. Didn’t care who heard me at this point! Disappointments after another, tears after another. Holding grudges is not healthy for a young girl. Stress is building, hospital visits increase because the stress was so great, could barely function.
“I can’t take this, this is too much weight to carry, this burden and heartache!” trying to plead my case to God, hoping that he hears my silent screams as I began to pray. It didn’t help cause I needed a miracle to happen at that moment. I needed an even exchange---
A few days past, and instantly I recieve a text, frantically wondering how should I respond to this message. Then, there were phone calls. Phone calls starting from one to ten minutes, and as days went by the conversations drew longer, hours on the phone. As I thought, hashing things out and getting things back in place with my father. We had a couple laughs but still bitter because I wasn’t ready to truly forgive and let go until he confessed all the wrong. It was a great start though, the longest conversation we held ever since I was eight years old. Appreciative of these small moments. But I had this gut feeling that this wasn’t going to last. I didn’t wonder why this was but something wasn’t right. It was like he had a mask trying to cover up the old scars instead of letting them heal on it’s own. Thinking about the phone calls, his voice was very distant and the emotion of him not being bothered with anyone. We had nothing in common, so our usual conversation was basic.
Weeks went by and ever since the mall incident, I haven’t seen this “sperm donor” since. It was all technology that kept our communication a little under par. Consistency was very hard from the beginning of our relationship because he always put less important things before me. He’d rather go to the gym to workout then come to one of my school plays, or one of my fashion shows. Anything that involved me, he wasn’t interested. I was an alien to him, foreign what I was in his eyes.
As these days,weeks and maybe a month past, I thought he was starting to come back into my life, that was not so. Suddenly, the conversations ceased. Memories ceased. It was breath taking because I thought he was there. Texted him 39 times, called him 67.
“Well maybe he’s busy.” thinking to myself. “Nah! You’re not that damn busy!” violently speaking. Gripping my head and hair, not realizing as I released from my head, the hair from my head was pulled out. “I don’t wanna be like this!” sobbing, pleading, ranting to myself. As I began to pace the floor, biting my lips until they bled. This was the ultimate rejection that a person should never feel in life, especially someone who say they love you. I was so depressed, hardly ate and barely showered. At this point, I just wanted him to pick up the phone! Heard voicemail after voicemail, “Sorry I couldn’t come to the phone, but if you could leave your name, number and a brief message---” didn’t even bother to leave a message on the machine because if he couldn’t answer when I call, I know he won’t check the voicemail.
“I GIVE UP!!!” as I throw my hands up in exhaustion. He fumbled my heart, not once, not twice but plenty, numerous of times. I’m up against the wind, back up against the wall. My insecurities and shamefulness came back instantly! Had to pull it together even though this touchy situation was hurtful.
The doorbell rang, it was just the mailman. Nobody important. Open the door and grabbed the mail that had been delivered. Since I am so nosey, I started shuffling through the mail, seeing the bills, bills and more---”hold up.”
“Paternity Establishment?!!” wracking my mind on what was going on. The only child who lives in this household is I. It was addressed to my mother but it was concerning me so I opened it. Confused. Lost. Starting to read the letter, I had an appointment for a paternity test to see if I was the child of the “sperm donor.”
After 16 years you want to see if the blood that flows through my veins match yours. The line was crossed! Questioning after 16 dreadful years! Questioning?! “This is a dream,” fatally speaking. It was certainly reality. No fantasy, fairytale but real life.
Weeks went by and the days were getting closer to the paternity appointment. Nervous and angry was how I was feeling. Unknowingly what was going to happen during the test but was ready for whatever came my way. I was prepared and didn’t show fear while waiting for the staff to call my name. Walking down those hallways, made me even the more nervous and frightful. They made me feel at ease but I’ve never had this done to me before. Asked a couple questions and began to draw blood. It was easier than I thought, now it’s just waiting for the test results. It takes a week or two for the results. Those weeks went by and can you believe that I’ve received a piece of mail? “Paternity Establishment” it read on the envelope. I hurried and opened it, immediately.
“Blah blah blah,” skimming over the unnecessary words. “Ha!” in closure.
It read, “In the paternity case of La’Kei Diane Barksdale, Locurgtis D. Hammond is 99.99999% the biological father of this child.” Screaming, dancing around the house. Not only in relief but I feel so betrayed. He questioned me after 16 years. Of course he received the same letter and decided to never return to my life.
“How can you deny what you have proof of?” I thought angrily throwing the letter and ripping it in the trash.
Betrayal at it’s finest, hidden under a friendly face, so I thought. Never wanting to see this man ever again in my life. Broken and bruised for life. These are hidden scars but now they’re revealing and everyone can see. Never understanding his mindset on why, how and why again? He don’t have to be perfect but just give me a purpose to love.