And this brings me back to my own dad. The man who told me more than once that I was unlovable. I can't be loved. I subconsciously carry those words with me all of the time. I never admit that to myself. It seems weak of me to do so. How can I even give those words any merit coming from the person they did? It doesn't matter. I know it shouldn't bother me. But it does. Everyone talks about daddy's girl. Father's day was exceptionally hard this year. I think it was a combination of the endless facebook posts from all of my friends. A picture of them with their own dad during some momentous occasion in their lives. Their dad walked them down the aisle. Their dad held their baby after birth. I'll never have that. Ever. It's as if my own dad died but I was robbed of the closure of a funeral. A sudden death. A tragic death that no one saw coming. But I did. I always knew.
I hate being cynical. The world has taught me to be this way. I'm going to admit that I'm incredibly lonely. And honestly? It doesn't bother me that often. Hardly ever, in fact. It's just a way of life. I happen to like my alone time. But at the end of the day, I'd like a partner. I'd like someone to share my day with. Someone that is thinking of me. I've never had someone stay. ... and I'm SO tired of investing myself to only lose that person. Am I unlovable? No, of course not. My son has shown me a love that no one else can. He wrecked my heart when he was born. A wreck in such a good, unexpected way. I'll never be truly alone with him in my life. And it's going to be a long life.