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Proud

I very often feel like my parents aren’t proud of me.

Then, suddenly, something happened.


I made a painting for my father,
It was a dinosaur.

He said he loved it and that was that.



Yesterday while celebrating the 4th overheard him speaking to someone.



“He’s gonna start performing with his guitar!”

“Oh that’s great, he’s so talented.”

“He really is, did you see the painting he made me? It’s so cool!”


I stood there as still and quiet as I could,
I was so happy when I heard the pride and awe in his voice.




Then today, I sent a picture to our family group chat of the painting I made.

He sent back:

Dad:
Damn
Who is that?

Me:
Idk

Dad:
That looks like good
Fuck

Me:
Random person on google

Dad:
Man
That is crazy AF
The grief

Me:
That’s a good title for it

Dad:
Yea


Such a stupid string of messages,
So immature and nonchalant.




Does he know how much they mean to me?
Written by Nixprty
Published
Author's Note
I’m proud of him too. To go from a sad, angry man who only acknowledged his children to hit or yell at them, to someone I can be proud to make proud. He has these soft moments that make me so damn happy. Forever a father, now he feels like Dad.
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