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Confession

Rage

Boomerguy2009, Male, 48, USA, Charlotte

I hate my father. And it isn't even his fault. Not directly, anyway. He died when I was six and ever since then he has been this mythical figure who never did wrong or screwed up or made a bad investment or cheated on his wife or ANYTHING.

I asked. I would beg and plead for anyone who knew him to tell me what he was really like. If he truly was the person they portray him to be he would have walked on water and had nails through his hands. It is like the mob: There is a veil I can't get through to the truth.

And he gave me his name. And it isn't a common name. Google my name and 95% of the references are to members of my immediate family.

So I am stuck with a name I hate that people don't "hear" and I have to explain how I got it and it is the name of a person with whom I can not compare myself.

Give me a break. Every time I see my name online or in print or anywhere I am reminded of him. How does it feel to be measured against something every day and know that you come up short? I can tell you since that is how I feel.

So I hate my dad. I didn't give my name to my sons because I don't wish that on anyone. Then again, compared to me they will look pretty good, even if they fail at everything they do.

People ask "Who do you want to meet in heaven?" They don't ask "Whose ass do you want to kick in heaven?" I think we all know my answer to that one.


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