What Is the Problem, Now?
Friday, February 09, 2007
"The heart has reasons that reason does not understand."- Jacques Benigne Bossuel
Two things on this blog (there's more, but I'm blocking them to avoid having to plead an insanity case for what I may do if I ride that train of thought) that I'm going to bug you about.
Nah, one at a time. I'll make this one first so it will be second and the next one will be first until the next one which will be after this one and this one will no longer be first.
Catch that? Good. I don't want you trying to read that again.
So my dad calls me. (I'm thinking about making a category called, "Yeah, this one is about my daddy again..." Who knows.) He says nice things to me like, "I love you," "I just want what's best for you," and stuff like that.
I didn't buy it. I knew he was about to say something that made me want to ask him, "What is that supposed to mean, pal?"
He said, "but my heart goes out for you."
What is that supposed to mean, pal?
Okay, you guys, you have read my conversations with my father before, so I ask you. What--oh yeah, I said that twice already, didn't I?
I know one thing. I have to do well here. I have to succeed. Want to know why? Because there are some times that I think about my father. Though I know that there are some men who have lived their whole lives without knowing their children's faces, I should be grateful of knowing my father's name among other things. At the same time, I recall some of the things he has said to me and I wonder. Am I the only person that he talks to like that? Is he seeing my mama when he sees me? Can he not find any redeeming qualities that warrant me to be a little more than mentally incapacitated? Would he even treat me the same way if I were the person that I am when I am away from him? What does he see in me that makes him think that I gave him carte blanche on verbally abusing me the way he does? How can I even remain to have emotional ties to a man who diminishes my spirit whenever he berates me about intangible things?
(Looks like I got my boarding pass and have taken my seat. I might as well continue this train.)
It is my dream to have a dialogue with him that would leave me empowered for a change. It's like Lucy and Charlie Brown. Yup, I went there. Go with me on this. Why does he ever so rarely convince me that he is going to keep the football for me to kick and snatches it whenever I begin to entrust my emotions towards him? Why do people do that? Are some people's souls fed when make others feel as if they are beneath them?
Listen, people. This man is my sole flesh and blood in the universe. There is nobody else who is uniquely connected to me by my parents. So why in the Sam Hill (this is a family blog, you know...) is this happening to me? Am I supposed to be strengthened by it? Is it supposed to build me up? Well, guess what, people. It devastates me.
What's worse? I do love my father and I refuse to give up on him, but I know I will never get the love that I once felt from him ever again. How can my spirit get over something like that? How can I even consider that I can possess pure love--any kind of love--when the first man in my life cannot fulfill me?
Two things on this blog (there's more, but I'm blocking them to avoid having to plead an insanity case for what I may do if I ride that train of thought) that I'm going to bug you about.
Nah, one at a time. I'll make this one first so it will be second and the next one will be first until the next one which will be after this one and this one will no longer be first.
Catch that? Good. I don't want you trying to read that again.
So my dad calls me. (I'm thinking about making a category called, "Yeah, this one is about my daddy again..." Who knows.) He says nice things to me like, "I love you," "I just want what's best for you," and stuff like that.
I didn't buy it. I knew he was about to say something that made me want to ask him, "What is that supposed to mean, pal?"
He said, "but my heart goes out for you."
What is that supposed to mean, pal?
Okay, you guys, you have read my conversations with my father before, so I ask you. What--oh yeah, I said that twice already, didn't I?
I know one thing. I have to do well here. I have to succeed. Want to know why? Because there are some times that I think about my father. Though I know that there are some men who have lived their whole lives without knowing their children's faces, I should be grateful of knowing my father's name among other things. At the same time, I recall some of the things he has said to me and I wonder. Am I the only person that he talks to like that? Is he seeing my mama when he sees me? Can he not find any redeeming qualities that warrant me to be a little more than mentally incapacitated? Would he even treat me the same way if I were the person that I am when I am away from him? What does he see in me that makes him think that I gave him carte blanche on verbally abusing me the way he does? How can I even remain to have emotional ties to a man who diminishes my spirit whenever he berates me about intangible things?
(Looks like I got my boarding pass and have taken my seat. I might as well continue this train.)
It is my dream to have a dialogue with him that would leave me empowered for a change. It's like Lucy and Charlie Brown. Yup, I went there. Go with me on this. Why does he ever so rarely convince me that he is going to keep the football for me to kick and snatches it whenever I begin to entrust my emotions towards him? Why do people do that? Are some people's souls fed when make others feel as if they are beneath them?
Listen, people. This man is my sole flesh and blood in the universe. There is nobody else who is uniquely connected to me by my parents. So why in the Sam Hill (this is a family blog, you know...) is this happening to me? Am I supposed to be strengthened by it? Is it supposed to build me up? Well, guess what, people. It devastates me.
What's worse? I do love my father and I refuse to give up on him, but I know I will never get the love that I once felt from him ever again. How can my spirit get over something like that? How can I even consider that I can possess pure love--any kind of love--when the first man in my life cannot fulfill me?
Labels: My Opinion, My Writing, The Negatives, Thoughts
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