this is sort of pathetic, but when you were younger, you were sort of puzzled by the cartoon representations of fathers: how a kid would be outside with a mitt, waiting to play catch.
it's not that your father never played catch with you, but you also didn't like when he did. something about a hard ball coming quickly towards your face doesn't seem exciting. not that you'd ever say you don't trust him. you trust him, right?
it's not like he never tried to teach you anything. or never tried to parent. on rare days, a strange person would walk in your father's skin. bright, happy, magnificent. this version of your father was so cheerful and charismatic that you would do anything to keep him. and this is the version of your father that would laugh and gently coax you try again. this is the version of your father that would break down the small elements of a problem and point them out so you have an easier time with them.
as a kid, those days happened more often. but somewhere around 11, you started being too much of a person, and he was often cross about it. when he'd try to sit you down to learn something, you spent the whole time with your shoulders around your ears, nervous, uncertain. terrified because you didn't immediately understand how to navigate something. worried you will run out of his goodwill and then you will have the Other Father back, and you will have ruined a good day for your entire family. something about you being visibly afraid - it just made him angry. he would accuse you of not wanting to learn and storm away.
on tv, it's not like there's a lot of versions of men-who-are-mostly-fathers. they can be good dads, but usually their stories are not told in the household. so it's normal that your father is there, but he's never around. you know he was in the house, somewhere, it's just not that you guys ever... "hung out". he just seemed to get kind of bored of you, annoyed you weren't made in his perfect image. frustrated with how much energy it took to raise a kid. over time, you kind of adopt a bittersweet band around your throat - he knows nothing about me. he says at least i never abandoned my family.
and it's technically - technically - true. he was there for you. sometimes he even made an effort and made it to the big moments; the graduations and the dance recitals. he grins and tells everyone that he taught you. it almost erases the days in between, where he complains because you need a ride to school. the weeks that go by where he doesn't actually ever speak to you. the times you say i am struggling and he says figure it out on your own. i can't help you.
and that's fine! that's all fine. you can call him if you are having a problem with your car. or if you need a ride to the hospital. he loves playing hero, he just doesn't like the actual work that comes with being a father. and you've kind of made your peace with that; because you had to, because you don't want to live your life like he does; the whole world at a managed distance, a little rotating and controlled orb he can witness and take credit for but never truly love.
as an adult, you are rewatching some dumb cartoon - and again, the child standing in the rain, with a mitt, waiting for their father to come play catch. as an adult, there's this strange creeping dread - this little thing? this little thing, and their dad can't even show up for that? oh god, holyshit, it's not about the mitt, is it. oh god, holyshit, your father spent most of your life leaving you hanging.
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“I don’t understand why you’re so adamant on asking me this, Hal. I just mentioned to Barry that I talked with the head Easter Bunny once and now everyone keeps asking me if I think the Easter Bunny is real! Why do people keep asking me? I’ve met them. I don’t understand why I have to ‘believe’ in the Easter Bunny for them to be real! They exist!”
Hal put his hands up and stepped back, clearly not expecting the frustrated and somewhat hostile response of Billy who slumped back into his seat, which was slightly less satisfying in his bulkier body, and began running his hands through his hair.
The repetition of being interrogated over a simple comment was not only bewildering but had gotten increasingly more annoying to answer as somehow the members of The Justice League, the literal most powerful group of people on earth, didn’t seem to understand a piece of basic knowledge.
Billy was not only very tired of being asked the same thing but even more-so he wanted the laughing at his ordinary response to stop.
He paused and looked Hal dead in the eyes then began to speak in the most dead tone Hal had ever heard from the usually cheerful man.
“Hal, I know the Easter Bunnies are real because I had to spend two, very long weeks personally overseeing the creation of their union that made sure they no longer routinely experience unsafe working conditions and helped establish 8 hour working days so they no longer get overworked or are required to do 80 hour weeks prepping for Easter and get punished for doing less or don’t get paid”,
Billy’s previously slow, blank tone grew more rushed and frustrated as he went on,
“I mean, I didn’t even do much other than sit there and look intimidating by throwing around lightning sometimes and make sure the Easter chicks didn’t do any funny business or tamper with the legal process!
It was in all the papers in Fawcett! I had my picture taken with them and everything. But Hal. I can guarantee you that the Easter Bunny exists. Please. Please stop fucking asking me.” Finally done, Billy slumped onto the table with a loud clunk.
Hal stood there shocked for a moment. “Marvel, did you just imply there’s multiple easter bunnies and they established a form of government?!”
Billy, with seemingly tremendous emotional effort, lifted his head from the table by a few inches and looked Hal in the eyes with a pleading tone, “If I just say no, will you please stop asking me?”
“Absolutely not, now I have even more questions”
Billy let his head fall back onto the table with an even louder clunk and groaned.
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Towards the end of a school year is the absolutely worst, so many exams and tests, kids are bored so there trying to make unnecessary drama and are acting up and the teachers are just out of it
We’re all tired and honestly only a few more weeks to go, y’all have got this (also good luck to all of y’all who have the big year 11/12 tests <3
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high school performing arts was so weird and awful but it feels like it was weird and awful only for me. like everyone else found their group and come back for every concert because they had found their people, and i’m experiencing that now in college, but returning tonight made me remember how small and awful i felt half the time. like these people talk to each other and exclude me, not out of malice, but because they forget i exist. they have their core group, and they’re friendly with me, but it’s not like i’m in the group. everything i say could be loaded or have a negative connotation that i didn’t intend. idk. it feels like i can’t hear them half the time and the other half they’re not even trying to talk to me. i’m so glad i left high school behind because it fucking sucked.
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