The day I wed will be the day that I give myself away. Typically a bride's father guides her down the aisle and gives her to her groom. It is a moment in a woman's life that all fathers dread and only hope they can entrust the man in which they place their daughter's heart. It is a moment I can only dream of, and a dream that will never come true. .
My father is bipolar, and like most people with this condition he chose to self medicate. His medicine of choice was cocaine. At the ripe age of four he would abandon my one year-old brother (Malachi) and I at home while he would go make drug deals or snort, or whatever it was that he did during the hours he left us. I did not know that this was not okay. That this was unacceptable behavior, so of course I never said anything. I remember a day he told us he was going to the movie store--which was exactly three minutes from our house -- and would be back shortly. After so long Malachi began to cry and I held him and rocked him until my dad returned high. I remember climbing onto the counter to microwave my brother's milk, I remember sitting indian style on the counter to fry pancakes, I remember how normal doing grown up things and taking care of a toddler seemed normal to me. It was normal for him to snort the cocaine in front of me. It was normal. Eventually he could not hide his addiction and my mom found out. They divorced when I was six. .
I grew up with a missing piece. I tried to find solace in father figures, but they were only so much like the real thing. A friend of mine told me how her dad used to be a drug addict and that he cleaned himself up, as I listened to her story I grew angry and wondered "Why can't my dad do that for me, why doesn't he love me?". I came to the conclusion that it was because he did not care how deep the cuts he made in my heart ran, he did not love me enough to make a choice that would not leave me wounded.
