Vengeance

Today, I was in high spirits. My odometer broke through the 1000 Km mark. I was happy and proud of myself. Then my fucked up father had to ruin it. When I ordered a pair of contacts, he told me to get a trial pair first because of the cost - in front of the optician. I snapped at him.

This disgusting fuck. After two bloody years of unrelenting suffering I've finally found something I love doing and he has to disparage me for it. When I first went to get my bike, he kept on going about getting a fucking rental first even though I've told him many times that no such bike can be rented. Even my club members have better things to say than he does. "You're strong" "You're holding back, I can tell" - the veterans in my cycling club are all impressed by me, this newbie on an entry-level bike, who manages to challenge these experienced cyclists on classy Italian bicycles.

They make me happier than my father does.

Fuck you dad. One more statement like that and I'll pound the fucking shit out of you. I swear it. Forgive and forget? Forget it. Reciprocity is a basic human operation. I shall teach you that. You, who are too niggardly to even help pay for my bike, my coach's fee, my jerseys, equipment - everything! - have no right to speak on these issues. Fuck you! There shall be no forgiveness or forgetting until you fucking learn not to mess with me.

You don't pay, you don't praise.
Fuck off dad.