HE IS MY MAN. HIS NAME IS DAD

Maybe you think today is his birthday. But, it's not.
I never really wrote about him. Now I want to and I am curious how long it takes me to write about him. He is my one and only.

Let me describe him.

He is above 170cm tall and 68 kg weigh.

He has big eyes, pointed nose and a bit thick lower lips.

His teeth are yellowish since he was a smoker. But, not anymore.

I can never use the term #mydadiscoolerthanyours. He is not that kind of modern dad. He’s more into old-fashioned one. He does not know which style is ‘in’. He preferred green army pattern to stripe-y one. He does not use any leather bracelet or watch, like any other fashionable dad. But, who cares?

He is not that good listener whom I can share everything to.

He is the guy that asks where to eat during our dinner outing. Yet, in the end we always end up eating at his favorite restaurant. He decided the choice already. Most of the time! Annoying? Maybe!

But, that’s not the point.

He’s the man who’s confused how to use Android and asked why he kept on getting emails. He accidentally subscribed to websites. Yet, he could use so many photo edit applications. He added ‘good morning’ text on my picture. Lol.

He’s the man that never praised me even I achieved something. Yet, he was the one who bought me that magazine when my short story was featured.

He’s the man that always mocked my favorite soccer team. Yet, he sat next to me whenever I watched the match in the midnight. Then, he would cook Indomie special with fried egg for me.

He’s the man that teased me how ugly I was when I was a kid. Yet, he always refused to change that worn picture inside his wallet. The picture of me with bang and hair tied to the left side wearing Elementary school uniform for the first time. That 3x4 black and white picture has always been there ever since.

He’s the man that never said “I miss you” when I was studying abroad. Yet, out of the blue, often called me and said“Hello. What are you doing? Have you eaten your dinner?” Then hung up the phone. Just it.

He’s the man that said I’m now mature enough to love someone; I could know which guy is worth loving or not. He said he trusted my choice. Yet, he kept mentioning qualities of great guy.

He’s the man that never explicitly said any motivational words. Yet, he is the reason why I keep being motivated even more. He supports me in his own way.

He’s the man that told me that one day, I’d marry a guy and move out from the family.

He’s the man who’ll hold my hand tightly when I walk down the aisle. Just like the old time and the present time, I will always hold his hand in the future. I will still hold his hand when we walk together. I will still lean on his arm in the car.

He’s the man that thinks I am his little daughter no matter how old I am and he’ll still take care of me.



He is that kind of man.

He is my man.

He is my dad.



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