u/intropi

I think the most painful part of it all is how much he attempted to reach out to me and bond in the year leading up to his disappearance. I was young - between 12 and 13 - and profoundly disassociated due to surrounding events throughout my upbringing, so his attempts were regretfully in vain. My father wasn't very present and had a lot of demons; alcoholism mixed with the torments of a tortured intellect and self-loathing.

 Sure, you could chalk it up to his other kids hating him, or him burning every bridge imaginable lol, but their was an absurdly candid and special relationship we shared near the end that's hard to put into words that I'll never have again.

 I reckon that he knew he was at the end of his rope, or at the very least he knew he had little time left to make a genuine positive impact on his son before he ended up resenting him too. Maybe my father saw himself in me, an abhorrent chemical imbalance distilling beneath familar genetically predisposed dark eyes. Maybe he felt shame, regret for the torments he believed laid in wait for me that carried in our blood, a "poison" as he called it (that entire excerpt was edgy asf I'm sorry).

 We are basically the exact same people, you could ask anyone who knew us both, in appearance, mannerisms, and personality. I didn't really think about him or his disappearance, or even cry, until a few years ago, as awful as that sounds. All it took was me working late one night and going to our messages and listening to the last voicemail he left me the night he went missing for it all to come flooding to me. I sobbed for hours, every realization coming far too late for me to do anything about it, taunting me.

 I can't even look in the mirror without seeing him. In everything I do and enjoy it's like echoes of him: My failed relationships and like-commitment failures, my abuse of alcohol, my neglect of loved ones, my lust, my self-loathing - my damning to a psychological purgatory of my own design, self-sabotaging and preventing myself from ever significantly improving.

 Maybe he thought he was doing me a favor by disappearing, but it would be infinitely more humane to not have to suffer this alone. I would give anything to have one last conversation with him, because for better or worse, there's not a second I've lived that isn't owed to him.

 I love him though, and appreciate the good he left me with, the man I've become from him. That's the comical thing about grief, it's not until someone is gone that you realize just how much you love and owe to them. You don't realize how many pieces of you are somebody else's until they are torn out of you.

 Sorry for the rant, I don't typically think like this. I'm feeling a lot rn with not enough ways to express it. Probably not cooking today, pictured is Caffè Macchiato and a Camel Crush.

Reading Camus after a psychotic break. Fighting the urge

It's Father's Day, my father has been missing for 7 years now. We went camping here once, the sunrise was beautiful this morning.

Made Marry Me Chicken all the time for my ex. It's funny how strongly the senses are tied to memories, because no matter how many times I make it, it never tastes as good as it did with her.

6-months single. Charcuterie spread I made for a date, ghosted the same night. Specifics below.

I hope spirits don't exist, if they do my chef father would bear witness to his son eating like a dog. 2 pounds lean ground beef. Poorly seasoned.

Every day I am haunted not by what I have lost, but what I have done to inflict this loss unto me. Italian Sausage w/ maple drizzle. Egg.