Rewrite

I just caught my father giving me one of those looks, a look that tells me that he’s disappointed in me, finds me strange. A look that tells me that he thinks I’m a fool, incapable, unworthy, queer. He generally doesn’t pay much attention to me, but when he does, it’s to let me know how much of a bother it is to provide for my material needs or that I’m not the boy he wanted.
What would I say to him if I could cross 35 years of time and step back into my younger self?

“You know, Dad, if I’m that much of a pain in the ass, maybe you should just leave. The state would give Mom a welfare check and some food stamps. I would hardly notice the difference. You’re not here much anyway. And when you are, you don’t take any interest in me as a person. You don’t respect me as an individual. And you certainly don’t convey to me that you like having me around. You do realize that is your job? You’re supposed to love me, support me, guide me, be someone I can count on, talk to. So what are you doing rolling your eyes at me and laughing under your breath in that way? You think I need that from you? Who are you to make me feel like shit? I’m your son, and you don’t even care that the school you send me to is extremely subpar. I could learn more staying home and watching television. You don’t care, or even know that I feel unsafe in that place and that I dread going there with every fiber of my being. I’m so scared and stressed I’m plagued by migraine headaches, and I’m just eleven years old. I have few friends and I feel worthless, funny, weird, ugly and stupid. I hardly ever get any praise. Certainly none from you. I feel like Mom is the only one who is looking out for me. She does the best she can, but you and I both know she should be in a hospital, not raising children or taking care of a house. I can see by the look on your face that I’ve shocked you by being so direct. I may have hurt you, but at this point, it’s not my job to take care of you. You’re supposed to be taking care of me, and you’re not. You’re crushing my spirit. Stop doing that. Be my father or leave."