People give me strange looks when I talk about not having a father, because they know for a fact that a do- at least physically, have a father.
He's always been there for me throughout my life, unwanted, unnecessary. Refusing to take bipolar medication, and any attempts at teaching life lessons to me plagued by bigotry and hate.
I see my mom continuously put up with his antics, even after divorcing him. I can't even hate him anymore, I pity him far too much.