“But if you stay and you ruin our lives, and you know that you will, then it’s my fault. Do you want me to live that? ”
– Beverly Donofrio “Riding in Cars With Boys”
The past couple of days? Meh. I’ve had to make a few executive decisions that wore me out a bit. For the sake of my kids, I try to be very hush on matters that deal with myself and their father. I do know that one of the choices I had to make will be one of the most difficult I’ve ever had to face in my life. It may mean that in the long run, the people that I am responsible for will be angry with me, or the very least, confused. But I’m doing what I believe to be best.
I’ve often said that I’ve never wanted to wear the magic S on my chest, and have my kids devote Boys II Men songs to me. I’ve wanted them to be every bit as thankful for their father as they are for me. I feel that desire has done more harm than good. If I continue to force this relationship on him – on them – there will be nothing but drama. My kids are stressed. My son came dangerously close to repeating the 6th grade. All because I was driven to not be the vindictive “baby mama” type that kept him away. I can’t help but feel as though I fucked up.
I’ve walked the way of attempting to keep them together, and now, I have to choose this new road, where he is absent. It’s breaking my heart. today they don’t seem to be bothered, but the idea of them resenting me for this choice pains me. I’ve never been afraid of doing this on my own, I just always hoped that if I made the kids available, he’d come around. It’s never happened. Part of me doesn’t want to post this, because I don’t want them to know that he’s never put forth effort. Part of me wants to put this out there, because I want them to know that I truly did all that I could. That part of me feels weak and selfish. They should know what I am, not what he is not, correct?
I’m more than slightly annoyed with myself, but I can’t cry over that. If I continue to let his actions tear at us, then I’m more culpable than anyone, because I know better. Tonight, the weight of my fuck up came down on me. For that large reason, and for a million tiny ones, I broke the tiniest bit. Bouncing back is what I do, and I’ll be fine in the morning. Tonight though, I’ll just sleep and plot my next move. I kind of plan on embarking on a new life as that which is colloquially know as, the bomb.