I am not good at writing when there is a mass of shit swirling in my head.
That has been happening for the last month.
And I wasn't sure what I wanted to write about.
But one thought kept coming back to the front of the line, so here goes.
A few days ago, someone called me to gossip.
She started to tell me about someone from my past; that he was in the hospital and might die.
I didn't have the heart to tell her to stop.
That hearing his name brings up feelings and emotions that I'm not comfortable dealing with anymore.
And since I know she is reading this..."I am not mad at you" <3
I told her that I no longer think about him and that I feel fairly indifferent about the news she gave me.
But I haven't been able to shake what she said, and here is why.
This man hurt me.
In my life I have hated exactly two people. One of them IS dead, and the other one is this man.
What scares me is that I'm glad he is in pain. I'm glad he is suffering to breathe.
After what he did to me, he deserves it.
But.
That isn't me. I let go of that hurt a long time ago. I don't think about him or what he did to me. I don't spend my days playing the victim.
While it's true I have never forgiven him, I have sort of forgotten.
It really does feel like all of those horrible things happened to another person, and not to me.
But then one day I'm shopping for groceries at Weis and I see him. For two seconds I re-live it all. I struggle to keep myself upright and not cower in the corner. I fight to remember that I am a different person; stronger and worthy.
While hearing his name doesn't make me shake with fear, it does remind me that even though I have moved on, those feelings of shame still live in me.
Knowing that he is no longer living and breathing on this planet would bring me some peace. So how do I reconcile that knowledge with the fact that this man is a father. His children don't know him as the mean cock-fucker that I do.
How can I be okay with wanting them to be fatherless?
That's not me.
And yet it is.
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