This man that I see in the den, isn't my father.  This man has the lights dim, and is listening to the old records. This man isn't smoking imported cigars, he went down a class and settled on Marlboro.

This man is not my father, because my father disregards me. This man noticed me peeking out of the corner. My father is emotionless, a trophy father, and husband, ‘Father-Of-The-Year!’ My father I can tell has died, this man is conscious of what he has become. Finally. Like a fresh breath of air after being choked by the stench, and clouds of Cohiba. This man is free. I see his eyes red, and clouded.

I see his body weak, and all of his spirit simply cannot be applicable.This man is not my father, he is a stranger. I quietly enter the room, and I shut the door. Not a word is spoken but a song is sung. I sit across from him in the big leather chair.  Before I begin, I look around this is the cavern of pride. This is where the demon that possessed my father ate him, and killed him.

I lift my chin, and before I can absorb enough energy to defeat the vibes in this room, he answers my question. He inhaled his problems and exhaled the truth about them. ‘My daughter, lust destroys love.’

My heart sank as he penetrated this knife into my left ringer he broke his vows. Not with me of course but he broke the vows he once made with an innocent woman whom I owe the world to. He broke the vows he made before the Almighty, the vows that were meant to last a lifetime. They're ruined. I will not shout because all I need to do is listen, for my own sake.                  “My daughter.” He reiterated ‘'Lust destroys love. I apologize to you for my sins. I haven’t been the father I could’ve been back then. I lusted after money, and power to fill the love of my vanity. I apologize because your mother will not be the same because of me. I lacked self-control, but I'm not saying all this for sympathy to be honest, you would be utterly idiotic for forgiving me so quickly! I am telling you this because I am your father and you deserve this testimony.’'

Tears filled our eyes. Out of the pride we have inherited from someone in the past life we both wiped them away vigorously again, and again. In this moment I felt God remove my voice box, I kept swallowing this shallow hole. I cant be sure if I want to hear this story about a lonely night, a pretty girl. A hallucination created by drugs or alcohol. How he knew he was wrong and persuaded anyway.

I do not want to know if he was angry with mom for some reason, and needed a “distraction’ save the testimony. I don’t care for an alibi. ‘Do not tell me. I do not want to hear of the night created by fire and passion. You told me enough I can respect you for telling me yourself. I cannot trust you to be dependable. I can love you because you are my father. I can love you because you are a person. And humans do not do what they are supposed to.” He let one tear fall so I let a dozen. ‘You are my father. This is who I can accept you as.''