Chapter Text
Mom was enough. She was there when I needed her. She would never leave us. Not like dad. Not ever like him. She's told me this a million times. And I believed her. I did. But I still wanted more. That probably makes me selfish. I don't really care though.
I don't remember when he started showing up, I was seven? Maybe eight. I can't put my finger on it. But he just started being there. Helping me. When I needed to cry and mom was away and I couldn't wake my siblings, his shoulder was always available.
When I was learning to shave Mom couldn't exactly help me. Partially because I never asked her to. Instead he was there. He was always there. At first I was confused. Mom never acknowledged him. Still doesn't. I didn't understand it at first. I kind of still don't. I've just accepted it. That he's just here for me. Nobody else. It's comforting.
I didn't know his name till last year. It was when I finally decided to write about him. When my pen ink started flowing on the page his name flew with it. Bang Chan.
Call me crazy if you want but nobody ever sees Chan. I've tried in the past telling my friends or my family about him (both instances ended catastrophically with my friends telling the teacher who called Mom and Mom putting me in therapy for a month.) After those… lovely experiences I've given up introducing him to people.
A couple years back, while Mom and my siblings were away on a trip but I had stayed home because I couldn't miss school, my biological dad tried reaching out. He said that he wanted to meet up and chat. Chat!? I was livid. I screamed and sobbed till my voice was hoarse and I couldn't see because my eyes were too puffy. The whole time Chan sat next to me. Silently rubbing my back and petting my hair. He never let go. Not for a second. Not when I cried so much I threw up. Not when I screamed so loud the neighbors banged on the wall. He never left, only held me tighter.
I never responded to my dad's message. He stands on read to this day. I felt bad at first. Like I owed him something simply because he reached out. Chan told me otherwise. He said over and over again that my dad doesn't deserve anything from me, that he shouldn't even have the right to the title "my dad". He's always adamant about that.
"Don't call him 'my dad' he isn't. He's just some dusty old rag of a man who's desperate to feel powerful so he takes it out on you, a little boy he thinks can't defend himself."
Bang Chan often calls me that. Little boy. Little boy. Little boy. It reminds me that I didn't have that chance. My siblings needed me before I could be a kid. I don't blame Mom for that. It isn't her fault. It's not my siblings' fault either. Dad left them too. They were only 2 and not even born yet. But I'm jealous of them. I'm jealous they got to be children. I'm jealous they have a father figure. I'm jealous they have me. I'm jealous my brother has me to teach him how to shave. I'm jealous my sister has me to help teach her how to stand up for herself.
I love my siblings and I love my mother. I'm grateful to them for being there. But most of all I'm thankful to Bang Chan because he is still here. He's here sitting next to me. He's a comfort. My comfort. My home.
Deep in my heart I know he's not. I know he's never been here. I know he'll never be here. But I can't let go. I've always needed him. And I still need him. Is that selfish of me? That I'm still holding onto him so tightly? But I can't let go. Please don't make me let go.