I swung the door open, and started rushing down the stairs. My chest was palpitating and my vision was beginning to blur. I came around the corner slipping ontow the cold tile floor losing my balance, and dropping everything I had in my hands. I grabbed a handful of hair and clenched my fist tighter and I began to feel the echoing scream that had been trying to release itself all day long finally let out. Before I could let out a sound I felt someone's gentle, yet firm touch on my shoulder. I used my sleeves to wipe the tears away and turned around to find myself staring up at my father. I could see the outline of my reflection in his eyes grow larger as I stood up and wrapped my arms around his thick waist.
"Bad day at school?"
I rolled my eyes then nodded.
"You have no idea."
He let out a soft chuckle and then pressed his lips against my forehead. They were cold, and I felt the rougness against my skin.
"Well, do you want to talk about it?"
I pulled away from his arms and walked towards the steps. I sat down shaking my head.
"You know dad, I'm not so sure. I didn't think you would actually care to hear about my problems."
His jaw dropped and his breath blew out a sharp gust. His eyes were piercing through my skin, and I felt the heat from his anger burn right through me.
My eyes were glued to the floor, and I knew that if I had made one more sarcastic comment that it would be punishment for life.
"It's getting late. Go to bed and I'll see you in the morning."
His tone had calmed down, and the color of his face slowly returned to normal. He walked past me, and headed up the stairs hoping that I would change my stubborn ways.
I remember lying in bed that night and finding it extremely hard to fall asleep. I kept thinking about how much I had hurt my dad's feelings, and how guilty I felt for not apologizing for it. He has always been there to support me like a good father should, and helped me whenever I needed him. I remebered my dad being there for me when my former boyfriend, Ryan Behrle, had passed away. It was July 10, 2009. The day my brother, Austin turned seven. I woke up to a surprise knock on my door, and it was my dad. I remember that day clearly because it was the first time I have ever seen my dad like this. I sat up in bed and turned on the light blocking my eyes from the brightness. My dad was calmer than usual. His eyes were glossy, and it seemed like he had been crying for hours. He sat down on the corner of my bed and reached out to grab my hand. His hands were wet from wiping the salty tears off of his face, and were a bit colder than they normally were. I knew something was wrong so I began to tear up myself. As my dad made his way through the tragic story behind Ryan's death, I became weak. My dad pulled me closer and continued to cry. I held my ear against his chest, and tuned out every sound but the calm beats of his heart.
"Angela," Hesitated and took another breath. He continued on in a quiet shaky tone.
"As a parent I am so devastated to hear about Ryan. I would never want my life to be without you or your brother."
Tears streamed down my face as I continued to listen.
"This was a freak accident, and shouldn't have happened. I'm really sorry."
It was then I realized how much I needed my father in my life. he's there to protect me, teach me right from wrong, and more importantly to love me as his daughter and oldest child. Every time I go back and look at how much he had helped me through the pain I realized that my dad and I had a closer relationship than I thought. I stared up at the clock wondering how I could apologize to my dad about the scene I had made earlier. what if he wouldn't forgive me?
After a few moments of complete meaningless silence I jumped out of bed and threw my sweater on. I swung the door open, and saw my dad standing right before my eyes. It looked as if he was looking for a way to speak to me for hours as well. We both looked at each other in shock and a little frustration.
"Angela, I..."
"Dad," I interrupted politely.
"Dad, I am sorry about earlier, I was just upset and having a bad day. I didn't mean to take everything out on you."
His face relaxed and he sighted in relief.
"Angela, I want you to know that I only ask you to tell me what's wrong because you're my daughter. I care about you and love you way too much to ignore that."
I felt a rush of guilt press against me once again as I responded to my dad.
"I want you to know that I'm really sorry. I was always afraid to let you in, and tell you things because I didn't want you to think that I wasn't strong enough. Now I know that all you have been trying to do was help me and be the loving, supporting father that I need. I'm sorry."
He shook his head and began to laugh.
"You know, they do say guys are a lot stronger than girls for a reason."
I began laughing and playfully punched his arm.
"So," he began.
"What do you say? up for a little one on one game of basketball?"
I smirked, and then replied.
"You're on!"
I guess being around my father more and more each day, it allows us to build a stronger father-daughter relationship. We both have our moments, but if we work together we easily find a way to make things work. I could never picture my life without my father. Simply because without my father, there wouldn't be a me.