I have realized that my problem isn't in moving forward, I can leap ahead like nobody's business. My problem is in the actual event of walking away. You cannot move forward when you are consistently living in the chaos. The odd part about that is, I feel dedicated to those in my life, even when I know they are not dedicated to me. A major part of that has to do with the fact that the man who I felt should have gave me the world, barely gave me anything at all. And before I can get my emotions all wrapped in this, I have to be honest, I have a constant struggle with this situation. I will probably give and pull back throughout this entire post. I am okay with this. I haven't healed. I may never heal. But I have come to terms with what my life has become because of this. This man that I am speaking of is my father.
The distance between us is deep. Not only are we miles apart, but we are even more separated when it comes to life, love, and matters of the heart. Once upon a time, I pretended that I was unbothered by his absence, but that was far from true. The fact that he chose everything in the world over me was something I could not wrap my head around. Sitting here in this moment, I still can't. The tears well up in my eyes and I want to know why? But truth is, there is no answer good enough, no answer true enough. I find myself, being a mother and being extremely appreciative of the man who is a father to my children, because I know that they will never have those same questions I had. I know they will never feel the way I feel. When I think of that, I can wipe away the tears that are forming, but I won't allow them to fall. His absence doesn't deserve my tears. Understand, these moments sometimes hit me when I least expect them and whether I anticipate the heaviness or not, it still feels heavy on my chest. I still love him, because of him, I exist...but because of my mother, I am.
I realize as I am writing this that it won't be a long as I originally thought. Not because I don't want to dive into my feelings, I have been doing so for 30 years now, but because I am overwhelmed with the celebrating of my motherhood coming upon its third year, but more so important a parenthood entering its third year for my babies. They will not have to carry the pain that I keep tucked away. I'll never stop being grateful of that.
Anyway, I have figured something out about myself. I have a history of holding on for dear life, even when the situation is lifeless. I will try to resuscitate and exhaust every method possible to keep something alive, only to understand that the death was inevitable. Then I am left to look at myself and reevaluate, why? But I know the answer, even though I don't know the answer. I am always holding on to my father's absence, thinking that if I held on tight enough and long enough, his absence would turn into a presence. But that never happened. I can't lie and say that it doesn't bother me, but what I know is that I am who I am because of this. We often times like to act like we're not carry our burdens, hurt, pain, secrets, etc on our back, but little do we know, it is weighing us down without our acknowledgement.
I don't even know what I am trying to say. I just know I had to be real with myself. I wish my dad would have been a better dad, I really do. I wish he would have been around. I wish he would have told me I was beautiful or that he loved me and it was genuine. I wish there was an excuse in the world I could assign to his absence, but I can't. My wishes are wishes that will never come true. Even if he walked into my life today and never left, there are moments that were monumental that he missed, those chances will not come back.
I still walk around with the burdened bag because I lived my life without my dad...But I am forever grateful for the fact that I am breaking what could turn into a generational curse. I want so much better for my own children because I felt like I have already faced the worst. But I know it can go deeper.
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