To be happy, Or To Be Great?

I only ever did what you asked of me. For the longest time I would look at you and I would watch you work. So meticulous, and methodical that there was no word that even scratches the surface of being synonymous. You were my hero, if hero’s were dick heads who told you that you were never going to be good enough. With your actions, and your words, you were so thorough in robbing me of everything that could have made me a normal child. It was the same qualities that I admired in you, that were integral in you conceiving whatever it is in me that makes me this way. The way you analyzed everything that I did, what I said, how I walked, the way I talked. It caused me to be the same way, only worse because I was doing it out of survival, I don’t even know if I’m capable of being like everybody else anymore because of the way I read people like the subtitles of a foreign movie. Almost to the point where if I’m not doing it I can’t understand what is really going on. You cursed me, because everybody shows you who they are and I see it from miles away. It would be amazing to be able to just be like everybody else, to not have to be three steps ahead instinctively. I honestly just want to know why? Why did you hate me so much that I had to be perfect, that I had to be everything that you weren’t? The trophies, the awards, praise from everybody except you, pail in comparison to what I would have felt if a fraction of all of that had come from you. You know what though? I don’t know exactly when It happened, but I don’t care about what you think, not anymore. I’m off the treadmill that was the road to your approval, because it doesn’t matter, I’m not going to be like you. Everything that you “taught” me all the “skills” that I acquired from your version of child rearing I can’t unlearn them. They are a part of me, but I promise it is what will make me great. How you used it to have a choke hold on my attempts at a normal life, is exactly the opposite of how I’m going to use it. To be better than you, I can’t change the past, something that you so graciously taught me. It’s funny, I used to watch you when I was younger, try to imitate and emulate you every way. I figured that If I could even mirror you in any way, that there was no way you couldn’t be proud of me. I sure am glad that I grew out of that. My future is mine, I hope for your sake you are behind me though, because I could care less if you hated me or still do. But I’ll be damned if you get in my way.