He was looking back at me with a blue version of my eyes, telling me he was so glad to know he had such a wonderful daughter of whom he can be proud. He is the same man that I remember from my childhood, but this time he is my father. A father who is affectionate and warm. A father like I have never had.
There were some tears. There was much confessing. There were some bombshells (she did it on purpose - wanting his baby). Most of all there was the strangeness of it all, and the wondering of where we go from here.
There is no immediate answer to that question. He doesn't want to upset his wife any more than he already has, although she has always known about the affair. I am way past the age where I would do stuff with my dad. It would be a shame to lose touch with each other, but then again it is difficult to see how we could maintain contact without hurting people around us. A bit of a minefield to say the least.
I am sure that if it wasn't for the drugs I wouldn't have been able to get through this. There is a certain levelling of emotion that comes with them; a muffling really. The feelings are there, but they are so much more manageable. Perhaps there will come a day when I collapse in a heap and can't stop crying with the delayed shock of it all, but not right now. I am grateful for that.
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