You know the saying, “It’s just like riding a bicycle, you can never forget it”?
Well it doesn’t apply to me. And it probably never will.
Because I don’t know how to cycle. Surprising isn’t it, coming from someone who can drive a manual car with ease?
Why don’t I know how to cycle? Because when I was a kid, nobody taught me.
Now when I see little girls being taught how to cycle or rollerblade by their daddies, I think of you. Do you think about me too? Or have I been forgotten, like yesterday’s leftovers?
I’ve always prided myself for turning out pretty damn good despite your absence all my life. I got thru school, have never gotten into any serious trouble and I have a stable career.
I’ve never smoked, never drank alcohol and never did drugs. In a nutshell, I went against the stereotype of children with divorced and/or single parents.
But despite having a comfortable life without someone who was supposed to indulge in me and call me his little princess, I’ve always felt something was missing.
You were not there for any of the events in my life. Not when I won second place in a story telling competition. Not I went for Brownie Camp. Not when I went to collect my results for A levels and was scared shitless. No. You weren’t there to hold my hand and you weren’t there to give me a hug afterwards.
You were not there when my heart first got broken and I took a year to get over the boy. You were never there to kiss me good night. Were you even there when I was rushed to the hospital at 6 months old? Did you even remember me then? Were you even there when I was born?
I guess not. You never wanted me.
But of all the things that you weren’t there for, you weren’t there to teach me how to cycle. You were not there to bring me to the park and teach me the basics and laugh when I struggle, or cheer me on when I manage to keep my balance.
This particular thing that you have failed to do has made me feel so handicapped. FP tried to teach me how to cycle some weeks back and he ended up exasperated. And he got mad at me, he lost his patience I didn’t become angry at him when he lost his patience. I blame you.
I blame nobody but you. All around the park that FP and I were in, I see little girls with their fathers. Some teaching them to roller blade, others teaching them to cycle. And I felt this void feeling within me, because I don’t know how that feels. And I will never know. Never understand that father-daughter bond because you chose not to be there.
Ironically, when I focused on my anger on you and the rut you left me in (being scolded by FP), I pushed myself harder onto the bicycle and for a little while there I was balanced and cycling. For perhaps 5 seconds. But it wasn’t exactly cycling.
It happened twice during that one hour. And then it was back to fumbling with the bike.
It was almost cycling, but almost doesn’t count. And when I think of how much emotions and anger that was needed to be a catalyst in a near-successful cycling, I think it’s not really worth it.
So perhaps, I should accept the fact that I will never know how to cycle. I shouldn’t be doing things that ignite a burning anger in me. It’s really not healthy.
As for you, wherever you are: I try so hard not to think about you because why should I bother when you don’t even remember me. But it happens again and again at random times that I least expect it.
As far as I am concerned, I don’t know you and you are nothing but a name next to mine.
And that is why my friends, I will never truly understand the phrase “you’ll never forget how to ride a bicycle”, because frankly I will gladly choose to forget it.