(memoir) .shocked

imagesEditor’s Note: What follows is fiction loosely based on personal experiences of the author. Feedback is welcome. More posts will follow and I’m hopeful for a semi-fictional memoir over the coming months. Follow tag “memoir” in the coming months.

 

When I found out about my father, I wasn’t totally surprised. I was hurt, angry and desperately sad. I did the whole “maybe it won’t be true if I look at the evidence just one more time.” But that wasn’t the case.

I didn’t cry initially, but I had to calm myself down as I drove to work. I was amped up, my heart thudding against my rib cage. How could he lie to my face for 32 years? What made him think he could just let me believe my mother was a cruel liar, making up unfair rumors about my father.

I told him I still love him just as much, but that I have lost respect for him. Why did he lie to me? Because his generation wasn’t mine. Because family secrets are better left buried.

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