A Day To Forget

Today I headed to LA to celebrate my homie. He's worked extremely hard to graduate from this health academy. His wife, my old best friend, supported him through this and raised their child while he was gone from Sunday to Thursday for almost 9 months. I could tell a situation like this took a toll. But they got through it. Stronger than ever. I love that for them. They love me, I love them. I'm meeting their daughter for the first time tomorrow. I'm so blessed.

I'm writing this because I almost cried in the terminal as I was waiting for my flight. My daughter wanted to call me. I immediately called. ALWAYS take the call. I heard her sweet, sweet voice say, “Hi, Dad!” Like it was the first time ever. She is always so excited to see me, hug me, and just tell me how her day was. I really do not like the days I'm without them. They feel empty and incomplete. I try to appreciate every moment with them like it's the last. Movie nights, days at the park, learning how to cook, telling them to do their chores. Every little moment is precious because I'm the reason they're going to make amazing things happen in the world. 

When I decided to have kids, I didn't think I'd be splitting time with them. It wasn't even an idea. I wanted to spend time with them every day. But we're resilient and have accepted what life looks like, and we're enjoying our routine. I actually love their bath times and when they're getting ready for school. I wake them up with huge hugs: “Make your bed and get dressed; don't forget to brush your teeth." 

“Yeah, Dad." Then I hear, “Okay Google, play The Marias" sick. I'm influencing them. Those moments are special to me. Then I ask them how they want their hair; my oldest does it herself. I still take direction from my youngest. We get where we need to. It's beautiful.

August 18th is a day to forget. As I was walking into my favorite coffee shop, Hardy’s in Benson (I'm there every Tuesday if you want to pull up and chat), I received an email from the woman I've been trying my hardest to get back into my life. She wanted to show support for my family member who's going through an immigration hearing. But the way she went about showing support felt empty, unemotional, and truly unnecessary. I took some time to respond. I really thought about what I wanted to say because there was no need for her to email me. None. A week prior, she specifically said she wanted no contact, space, and time. I wanted to respect that boundary. I am healing. I'm working on myself and was derailed. For the first time in months, I had a good night's rest. I wasn't anxious. I felt good, only to be put back into that confused state.

I asked my sister what I should say; she said “Go full send!” All the homies and my family know we should be working through this together. I KNOW we should be doing this together and not apart. So I went full send. It backfired. I ended up standing up for myself. I spoke my peace. I asked the stern questions. I asked for clarity. I shared my truth. Unfortunately, the response I received was even more confusing. She was playing with my emotions. I deserve to not be played with. Mixed signals were being sent.  If you want to support someone, show emotion, show authenticity, show thoughtfulness, and show care. That's it. Sending thoughts is not support. Especially after we've spent weeks arguing about what space and time look like. What no contact is. 

Above all, I got out what I needed. I cannot dance. I cannot play games. I cannot lie. I stated my needs. They were met with deflection. Then the words I've been fighting for were shared. You don't want to try to get back together. You don't see a future with me. You don't want to try again because I've hurt you more than enough. I understand. I get it. I know the change I'm creating is going to be beautiful. You didn't see who I could be, and that will be unfortunate.

It's a day to forget because there were a lot of things that were said that hurt. A lot was said that came from hurt. Things were said that cannot be unsaid. I felt gross after our discussions. I was standing in line to get into my plane to head to LA and I was met with anger, frustration, and what felt like hatred. I am sorry I realized what you meant to me and my family after I decided to call it off. I'm sorry for every hurt I have caused. The walls that have been put up against me will leave me with hurt until I can’t hurt anymore. I understand that. 

I was respectful during this email back-and-forth. I can sleep at night knowing that I did everything in my power to keep you here with us. At the end of the day, I feel great. I hope that I feel this way once I get back home. I know I'll continue this positive feeling because I've worked hard to get here. I chose myself. I matter. My emotions and heart matter. I'm learning to love myself and for everyone else, that's trouble.

Thank you so much. 

Peace