I didn't actually spend yesterday with my father as such, as I went up to Clacton to visit Nathans family.
But this blog is going to be dedicated towards my father, and my issues that surround that.
I was discussing with the WeRFreEDomFighters girls yesterday about my situation with my father.
I actually live with my step-dad, whom I have referred to as Dad since I was around 7 years old.
It was natural and acceptable for me to do that, he was the person who brought me up, in hindsight.
That doesn't mean things have been a bed of roses in that respect.
I do often wonder where my real father is. I mean, I doubt anyone wouldn't in my position.
He wasn't the nicest of people. He was violent, aggressive, and couldn't face up to the reality of having children. Time and time again he returned, wanting to see me, and as soon as I got interested in the prospect of seeing him again, he wouldn't want to know, ignoring my phone calls, etc.
The last time I saw him I was 10 years old.
My real dad used me to get to my Mum. Everytime he heard my Mum had broken up with my step-dad, he used seeing me as an excuse to get to her.
I keep having to remind myself of that, to remind myself that he doesn't care, and never did.
I have to remind myself not to think of things like that.
My step-dad, however, brought me up. Hence me calling him Dad.
But we have been violent towards one another. Hurtful. Mean. Aggressive. He has made many attempts to walk out on our family.
When I first met him, things were so rosy. I was so excited at the prospect of having a Dad in my life that I cherished it with open arms. We did everything together, and commited so much time to our relationship.
That was then.
Since being a teenager, it has been arguments galore with us.
And some things that he has said, I can't forgive him for.
Our personalities clash so much, and it leads into many arguments.
Over my teenage years it was ultimatly the worst relationship ever experienced, we appeared at each others throats everyday.
He threw a glass of freezing cold water over me during an argument and left me to sit in it, weeping.
Some things, you just don't forget.
But you can attempt to move on.
I'm trying. With a lot of family therapy, we attempted to get through each others personalities, what makes each other tick and sets each other off. And it helped.
He still doesn't understand me, or my life. But I know that is him, and I can't expect him to do that now.
My version of a father wasn't him. At all.
But I respect him ultimately for taking me on as a part in his life, something which he could have thrown away.
And maybe even one day, we could have that perfect father and daughter relationship.
It just seems a little distant, for now.
All I want for Fathers day is to feel like I have a father.It's a shame that that isn't the case with everybody.
Dad, I love you.