1 01 Love

"I love you. You know that, right?"

If I said I don't, will you scold me? Why are you here in the first place? Since when did you care? So many questions emerged in my mind when he said that. Out of the many thoughts I had, only one stood out.

"Why?" I asked.

"Why?" He repeated my question.

He looked so taken aback. As if he didn't expected my question at all.

"You're my daughter so of course I love you."

Love.

Love is so subjective and irrational. Why would he use such a word? As if the current situation had called out for such a reason, as if love would solve everything.

"So should I love you because you're my father?"

This time, he didn't said a word. His face's expression changed immediately. This time, a look that I was familiar with.

Disgust and disappointment.

"What did I do to deserve such a daughter like you?" He mumbled softly, looking away.

His words almost like a whisper but I could hear him. He wanted to silent his thoughts but the moment he let out those words, it was intentional. As if he wanted me to hear it. That his love was obligatory, that his love was for his blood and nothing more.

I knew from the moment I stepped into this house, surrounded by those of my blood, that this place would be my prison, this place would be my undoing.

I had entered with the determination to protect yet slowly by each day, the chains which bound my body digs into my soul.

I could feel pieces of me withering in the wind. I knew I was slowly dying here.

What caused me to enter such a desolate place, forsaking everything I had in the past?

Ironically, it was the very emotion that my father threw onto my face.

Love.

Yes, I too knew love.

Or what it's supposed to mean.