have I prefaced this before with the fact that I’m not about to start handing over relationship advice? well, let me once more – compared to normal people my age, I’m grossly immature. while you were proposing to be legally binded to someone, I was proposing to work illegally, so no – this isn’t for you. I guess it’s for me. or anyone who’s had to deal with me in the past – an act deserving of more than a few hero cookies.
see, I was always under the impression that in order to be a good boyfriend, you had to be good. my Dad is a perfect example of this who still, to this day, is buying Mom cards, holding open doors, picking flowers, etc. it’s sick how in love they still are. so I grow up with this to look up to and unfortunately, the bar is set. I need to be perfect and so does she.
my god, how dangerous that is, though – needing someone who will be as perfect for you as Mom is for Dad.
but, you know, when I think back on what an amazing Old Man I have, I rarely default to his best traits – and for those who know him, they are many. instead though, I keep closest these two fondest memories of my Father:
- Ashley and I were playing in the yard and I ran up and dead-legged her. she fell down and being a little sister, told on me, ’cause that’s what sisters do. my Dad came up and dead-legged me, asking ‘how it felt to have that done to me?’ so, I blamed it on Ashley, ’cause that’s what big brothers do. later that night, my Dad came into my room – I must have been all of 9 years old – tears in his eyes: ‘that’s not how a Father acts’ he said, ‘and I’m sorry’.
- 6 years later, I get in trouble for something [most likely Ashley's fault] and Mom and Dad ground me. no phone calls and no weekend plans. I decide to show them and march into my sister’s room and ask to borrow $50. she was always good at saving money – having most likely been awarded a dollar for everytime she told on me – and gave it to me. I went downstairs, asking Mom for the keys to the car so I could back it out of the driveway and play basketball – only I didn’t stop when I was out of the driveway. in fact, I didn’t stop until I was 93 miles away. first time driving, and I take Mom’s Oldsmobile from Tulsa to Oklahoma City. in a blizzard. doing about 40 miles an hour. I have no idea how I found my friend’s house, but I did. they fed me and I heard them call my Dad. he flew in that next morning to drive us back and I have never hated silence more than I did for the first hour of that return journey. finally, I couldn’t take it any longer. ‘just tell me my punishment.’ I said, swallowing hard. he waited a few minutes and then said ‘you know, whatever it was that your Mom and I did to make you risk your life was punishment enough, so it’s us who should be saying ‘we’re sorry”.
… it was written somewhere that ‘the day your parents betray you is the day you find out they’re fallible’, but I couldn’t disagree more. the day my parents came to me admitting their wrong was the day I realized I had the best family in the world.
and that’s stuck with me throughout Josie and I’s relationship. of course, when we first began, I needed to be right and she needed to be wrong and out of that, she’d realize what an amazing catch I was and how lucky she was to have someone in her life to show her the way.
but that’s not it and, over the past month, I’ve come to realize that each time my wrongs can come out, she’s that much more in love with me. of course, that means admitting to them on my end, which is never easy – but it’s slowly becoming easier with each realization. what was, at first, hours of my deep radio-voiced defense strategy is now an open invitation to not just list out my fuck-ups, but enlisting help from someone who continues to stands by me – even when I don’t.
and that’s about as strange as letting your Dad off-the-hook as he drives the car you illegally stole.
again, I’m new to this…
but it’s nice to know that striving to be right is of the least importance.