I told Mark everything about my father. I don't know why, but I felt like just confiding in him. Probably because he's the only guy whose ever cared enough to pay attention to my lack in parents.
I told him that I had no memory of my father, that he didn't "mean for to have me" and that my mother was finally fed up with him after five years and let him off the hook with no legal pursuits. She didn't want my childhood to be full of fighting and conflict, and so she decided to raise me on her own.
I only ever saw pictures of my father, he had completely disconnected himself from us and not even my mother knew how to find him anymore. I told Mark the only memories I had of my father was pictures my mom took of them together, mostly before I was born.
"God, I'm so sorry to hear that dude. I think everyone deserves a father. I wish I could make it up to you somehow," Mark comforted me.
"You really don't need to do that, it's not your fault-" »
