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Those original words hit, but I twisted the words and THAT hit harder. I felt Those words to the core, even as I type, I'm still feeling them.
Every year, for the past 25 years, I've been healing from a lost love. These were the words I needed to heal me....they ARE the words for me to heal.
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There's a lot of things in my life that are hitting the 20 year mark. This year on June 4 will be a significant one, but one that no one really knows about or especially care about. 20 years ago I walked away from a toxic environment. An environment where I didn't like the person who I was. I merely became that person out of protection and self preservation. I become teary eyed because I'm glad I'm not that girl anymore.
As I think about that time in my life, I think about all the other pivotal moments in my life. What if they never happened? What if I never met Gene? What if I never had the accident? What if I never met Kurt? I honestly wouldn't be the person I am today with all the knowledge and lessons I've learned from each of those situations.
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22 years
I wish I was 22 again, but I'm not. My birthday is in a few weeks and 22 years ago I received flowers from a guy for the first time. I am watching an old episode of Gilmore Girls and Lorelei receives a thousand daisies. I immediately start to cry and am thinking of my flowers on my 16th birthday and the person who gave them to me. He was a listening ear, a "shoulder" to cry on, a friend, my first love. He'll never know that he was and we never became anything more. The memory him and his flowers will always be in my ❤.
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I’m not one to post anything about my religion and preach about it, but today is Easter and I did go to church. Aside from seeing a therapist, I’ve been praying and talking to Jesus to give me strength to forgive my dad and to receive forgiveness from God for not forgiving my dad.
This morning, as I looked up at Jesus on the cross, I was reminded of the scrutiny he endured as he died on the cross for all of us. I thought, if Jesus could do this, then I should be able to forgive my dad. And as I prayed to Jesus and thought about this, I felt conflicted because I still had fear that if I did forgive my dad, he might disappoint me again and worse enough disappoint my son. I wouldn’t be able to handle that again. I asked the Lord and Jesus, “What am I supposed to do with that?” What do I do without getting hurt?
And I guess that’s the difference between Jesus and I, despite all the ridicule and pain he felt, he still died for us and still forgave us for all our sins. When it comes to my dad and the lack of what he did for my brother and I as a father, and the decisions he is making now as a grandfather, it’s been impossible to forgive him. I should be able to...I should, but I can’t.
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Tonight confirmed it. The person who I call dad, is a coward. I wrote him a letter explaining all the things he did to me as a child and how it truly affected me and how it still does. How I want to protect him from my son because I don’t want him to disappoint my son the way he disappointed me. How the choices he is choosing to make now, like missing his grandson’s birth and 1st birthday really hurt me and if he chooses to keep doing this, then I won’t bother with him anymore. After I wrote the letter, I came by to my parent’s place in the wee hours of the morning and placed it on top of his luggage before my dad left to the Philippines. And that was the last I saw of the letter. My mom never mentioned anything, which is fine. I wasn’t expecting anything from her. In fact I was a bit afraid to ask her because I wasn’t ready to find out just yet what my dad thought of the letter or anything really. But tonight, as I came by my parent’s house for the first time since my son’s birthday and seeing my dad for the first time since he left over a month ago (before my son’s birthday), having dinner and Emmett spending time w/ his grandparents; My dad never once mentioned the letter. He never set me aside to talk about the letter or nothing.
The last paragraph of the letter I said,
“You’re going to do what you’re going to do regardless if it hurts others. And that’s your choice. It hurts me and it’s just sad that you don’t seem to care because even after all this time that I haven’t said a real word to you, you can’t even have the guts to talk to me and sort things out. If you decide to dismiss this whole letter and my feelings and not ever mention this, I’ll be hurt, but fine because I’m used to this and you’ve done this to me my whole life. But I hope that you can prove me wrong and that you do care.”
This dinner was confirmation of everything I already knew. Dad, you had a decent, but disappointing run. I’M DONE.
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Nothing and anything
Why is that a lot of the time when I'm at home, I don't want to do anything? Is it laziness or depression?.... Or both?
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Who had my back?
When I was a kid, my mom always had my dad's back, I had my brother's, but who had mine? Who had my back?
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Compromise.
Some always gets hurt, someone always gets their way. It sucks that compromise still feels like I'm the one giving up something. On a side note for tonight: the one person that was supposed to be for me to say goodbye to isn't even here!!!!!
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As of this moment, I’m feeling like this. As if everything I’m doing isn’t right. I think the only thing I’m doing right at the moment is being a good designer and being a good mother. I need to be a better wife and a better person. You know what I did today while I waited my turn the vote? I so rudely told a lady to get out of my way so I can push my stroller through to get my ballot. That was not a shining moment. I didn’t realize how I came off until my husband told me how rude I was. It’s not the first time this hasn’t happened. Apparently I’ve been rude many times and my husband has pointed it out to me numerous times. I don’t mean it, but it just seems to happen. I WANT IT TO STOP. I don’t like this version of myself. IT NEEDS TO STOP.
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