Expecting, Hoping, Wanting and Dreaming

At first, I expected you to come back. I waited by the door every day after school believing that you would return. You fought with him, you guys always fought, but that couldn’t have been enough to drive you away. I waited there every day because I wanted to be the first person you saw when you returned. I imagined you opening the door and coming towards me with open arms. Then you would kiss be on the head and we’d build jigsaw puzzles together again. Soon, days turned into weeks and a part of me stopped believing, but another part of me told me to have faith. No matter how many times I was told you were gone for good, I still hoped you’d come back. I just had to be patient, if I was a good son you’d return, I just knew it. I did everything I could: I took out the trash, washed the dishes, and completed my homework. I even took care of Johnny’s chores, thinking my efforts would make you realize that I was worth it, but life moved on and I did too. I began to realize that despite how much faith I had, you wouldn’t come home. It didn’t matter though, I knew it was unrealistic, but I still wanted you home. I spent several nights crying wishing you never went away. Papa told me that there was nothing I could have done and that the blame lied with him. For a long time, I hated Papa for pushing you away. Then I came to realize I hated you more for leaving. Soon I didn’t even want you home anymore. If you didn’t care enough about me to return then why should I care about you? I rejected you and everything that reminded me of you. You left us. You hurt me. Despite that, I still dreamt of you. Your cascading brown hair, the blue eyes you gave me. In each of my dreams, you wore a warm smile and apologized for being gone for so long. In them, I didn’t care about all the mistakes you made. All that mattered was that we were together again. Once again I was happy in your arms, but then I would wake up and hate you all over again.