not a shocking revelation for the night, but a real one none the less:

im learning that we gravitate towards and think the most about those whom care about us the most.

just think about it. i almost bet money on the fact that you think the most about the people who honestly show they care about you. it doesnt matter if its that professor who has taken you under his or her wing, or your best friend who knows you inside and out. it doesnt matter if its a parent, guardian, sister or internet friend…..

all that matters is that they express a genuine concern for your well being, and i guarentee you… you’ll spend a good amount of time thinkin about that person. or at least, more time than thinkin about those who arent as fond of you.

this shocking realization came from a few moments i spent with my dad today. see, his place of work and my place of work are actually across the street from each other. uncanny huh? i didnt even know that when i first started. in any case, i stopped by his work after i got out of work. i only spent maybe 10 minutes there. never even got outta the car. and its not like he and i have a great relationship… i faced the fact a looooong time ago that he talks, and i listen. my responses and investments into the conversation consist mostly of nods of agreement and grunts. but the fact of the matter is that i stopped by today.

and thats when it hit me. for some reason while sitting there taklin with him, my mind went back to when i first came down here. back in the month of may. it was the second week of my existence in texas. and i went to visit him at his place of work. and all i remember from that day was how i met everyone he works with. and how every single person knew who i was when he introduced me. and with some of my dads closer work buddies… you could see in their eyes how happy they were that my fathers son was ‘home’. a few of the guys actually hugged me. and these are big, tough, truck drivin guys….

you see, i realized something today that brought tears to my eyes.

my dad is proud of me.

he may not say it all that often. and he may suck at communicating it in other ways… but deep down. he is.

and see, that scares me. not because he is proud of me… but because im that hungry for someone to cheer me on. for someone to be down here and be “coach”. for someone to see my out on the playing field of life, full of potential and energy and motivation… but absolutely lost as to what im supposed to do next… or even whos team im on.

and, if i pull back just a bit and look at myself and my relationship with my father a little more objectively, i see something else im concerend about. well, two something elses…

1.) im attracted to my father because in all honesty, he is only person i know who has lived through “some” of the same circumstances ive had to deal with. i mean, we both ended up living not at home at the same time, we both felt lost, we both love my mom and sisters, and we both are hurting… and we’re both trying. so hard.

2.) i am my fathers son. and that scares me. my mom kicked my dad out. she had every right to do so. he messed up horribly and it was the best thing for her and my sisters. but you know what, i go to bed every night with a small voice inside of me telling me that i am the only physical reminder my mom now has of my dad. i look a bit like him… and i even have a few of his mannerisms. im it. im feel like the only piece of my moms old life that hast been left behind, or kicked to the curb. its like opening your silverware drawer and seeing the one pesky spoon that you got from as a wedding gift from your last marriage. and just the thought of it makes you want to vomit.

i honestly feel like i live every day, just seconds from the garbage can.

i walk on eggshells. and i know its because im afraid. and because ive not yet broached this subject with my mom. and maybe, just maybe… because there isnt anything my mom can say that will make me feel better. because the circumstances wont change. maybe its because i dont know who i am. and i dont know how to define myself anymore.

if i am the child of both parents, then im wounded, messed up, hurting and -to my mom- a huge reminder of my dad. if i am only the child of one parent, i am no longer a bitter reminder… but i am only half a soul.

Advertisements