I hate that im confused about hating that i love my dad....

I hate that im confused about hating that i love my dad. Im not sure if you followed that but that's exactly what i feel. When my parents divroced my dad trashtalked my mom, my mom  trashtalked my dad,  my grandparents trashtalked them both, and noone focused on the children the divorce was affecting. My dad revealed to me that he still loved my mom around the same time that my mom married my stepdad and tried to get him to adopt me. A few years later i was told that my dad had turned himself over to the police and confessed to moletsting my 17 yr old niece. at the time i was only 13 and when i heard my that my dad had done this i got overrun with anger. for years i hated him and had nothing to do with him. Then i found out that the reason he turned himself over was because he was afraid he would hurt or molest me.  I also found out that he was insane(literally) and that if the doctors had been giving him his correct medications that he most likely never would have done that.  After that my mom and stepdad divorced and my mom admitted to me that she still loved my real dad even though all the stuff she had said. She told me she only said that to please her parents and her family. My grandparents still think my dad is white trash and a monster. He has to serve 7 years in the MDOC but my grandparents would rather it be life while my mother, dad's family and i would like him to be out a lot sooner. Often peopel do not understand how i can still love my dad, and thats why i hate that im confused about hating that i love my dad. I love him i always will, but people act like i should hate him and therefore i did for many years, and now im soooo confused about hate or love that i dont even trust those 2 emoions anymore. Belowe s a poem i wrote one night about how i feel about my father.

"Bloodline's Love"
Surrounded by voices,
None my own;
Room full of people,
Yet i'm still alone;

Wrestiling with thoughts,
Inside my mind;
Wishing to press pause,
Only to rewind;

Dreams or nightmares,
Which could they be;
But still, once again,
He stands before me;

Years of hatred,
Of sorrow too;
Forgotten now,
When I started needing proof;

Proof of forgiveness,
Through human blood;
How no matter what, between my father and I,
There shall always be love.