My father and I had a terrible relationship. Like a boy holding a chick, tighter and tighter, the chick trying in vain to get away, the grip became tighter and tigher until one crushed the other. In someways I really believe that he wanted me to know how much he loved me, but ever time he tried to make the point it just made me recoil. He crushed my spirit, but I survive.
If we shared anything, it was that we loved each other, but we didn't like one and other.