Savior

An Amarillo Sunrise

Dear Xavier,

It’s been nearly a year since I last saw or spoke to you.  We didn’t exactly leave things on good terms.  I’ve since moved away from any place that we ever lived together in.  Although, there was that one trip we made here for my Nana’s funeral and you and I talked about how beautiful it was and how we might like to live here.  I suppose there will always be little things like that when you spend so many years with someone.  In any case, I’ve been pretty surprised how much you’ve been on my mind lately.

It’s still hard for me to believe that this time two years ago, I was devastated over our separation.  I was in the middle of preparing to move to Lubbock and we had just filed for divorce.  I feel so far removed from all of that pain now.  Truly a blessing.  And yet, part of my mind still hasn’t moved past it.  Not fully.

I think I know why.  You and I both know the wrongs that we’ve done to each other, but I don’t think I’ve ever made proper amends to you for my role in the destruction of our marriage.

You and I both came into the relationship with childhood baggage.  We both came into the relationship “fixers”.  We both wanted to save each other from the great injustices we had suffered.  But I made the mistake of believing you would be my savior.  I let myself become so weak because it felt good to have someone who wanted to be strong for me.  And you did.  You wanted to be my savior at first.  You really tried, but there’s no way you could have succeeded.

By the time I realized my grave mistake, it was too late.  So much damage had been done and you resented me so much.  But we were too stubborn and scared to admit it.  So we just kept torturing each other until we finally couldn’t take it anymore.

Of course, there’s more.  I let anger consume me too often.  I said things I shouldn’t have.  I thought things I shouldn’t have.  I was paralyzed with depression too often.  I always believed that you would hurt me just like everyone I’ve ever loved.  What chance did you have?

*sigh*

I’m not quite ready to move on, but I’m getting close.  I’m working on becoming worthy of what I truly want.  I still wish we could have done better for each other, but I believe there was no other way for me to learn the painful lessons I had to learn.

I’ve forgiven.  You and me.  I hope you’ll find a way to do the same.

Praying for all the best for you.  -Me

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Dear Dad,

I have to admit I’m a little lost right now.  I’m mostly just going with whatever I feel these days because everything else seems so difficult.  I don’t know what I believe in anymore.  I don’t know what I want anymore.  I’m just drifting, and that scares me to death.  I’m tired of grasping at straws, clawing at the banks of this river of despair trying to take control of anything that might make me feel like I’m living my own life again.  I know I need to surrender, but I’m not sure what exactly I’ll be surrendering to.

Dad, if you never take anything I ever say to you seriously in my entire life- please listen now.  This is my cry for help.  And I’m pretty sure you’re the only one who can help me.  I know that I have to get some resolution if I’m ever going to have a healthy relationship with another man.  And I have to start feeling good about myself.

A friend of mine sent me this video today.

 Boyce Avenue – Broken Angel

I’m not sure how he knew.  I don’t talk about it to anyone.  I try not to think about how I feel like such a failure in your eyes.  I try to use logic to tell myself that it’s okay we don’t have the relationship that I wish we did.  But I can’t deny that little girl is in there wondering what’s wrong with her.  Why isn’t her daddy proud of her?  What should she do to win him over?  Is she even worthy of love?  Is it all her fault?  This is where I know I’m starting to lose you.  You don’t like this emotional stuff.  I know Dad, and I’m sorry.  But I can’t keep it in any longer.

Please don’t misunderstand.  I’m not bashing you or blaming you or hating you.  I love you so much.  You are a good man and I have never questioned that.  You took on three young girls and always worked hard to provide for us.  But I always knew you were unhappy.  And I always saw that sadness in your eyes when you really stopped to look at me.  Is it because I reminded you of Mom?  Because I reminded you of how much of a disaster that time was?  I need to know.

All I ever wanted was your approval.  I wanted to know that you thought I was good and wonderful and smart and beautiful.  But I feel like you thought I was damaged, problematic, annoying, emotionally unstable.  And maybe I am all of those things.  BUT I AM ALSO GOOD AND WONDERFUL AND SMART AND BEAUTIFUL!  And I deserve love and acceptance from you.  And I need it.  I need it so badly.

I need more than a phone call on my birthday and holidays.  I need more than small talk about work.  I need to see you more than Christmas and family reunions.  I need you to invite me to your home.  I need to know that you love me unconditionally and that you accept me for who I am and what I’ve become and even my many faults.  I have accepted yours.  And I love you no matter what mistakes were made.  Yes, it was a mess and yes, I’ve struggled because of the things that happened so early in my life.  But all is not lost, Dad.  Please don’t give up on me.

I love you.

Me

Hurting

 

I’ve watched you my entire life, you were so fascinating to me.  Far more bold, confident, and intelligent than I could dream to be.  When we were young, I was so jealous.  You could break the rules without batting an eyelash.  You could remember the words to a song after the first time you heard it.  I wanted to be just like you, but I couldn’t be.  You were younger, but older.  I always knew that.

 

Then everything got broken, and it was my turn to shine because I could take care of you.  It’s the only thing I could do better than you- take care of you.

 

 

 

They told me I was the oldest and I had to be a good example.  I had to be responsible because you were watching.  And I believed them.  I tried to be the best I could be, but you didn’t want to be like me.

 

 

 

We got older and older and you got deeper and deeper in trouble and I felt so responsible.  I thought it was my fault.  When we would fight, I couldn’t sleep and all I wanted to do was make up.  I took on a new role.  I became your protector.  I thought I was being just.  Doing my job.

 

 

 

Then you left.  And came back.  And left again.  Over and over.  Breaking my heart each time.  I was always there trying to help you pick up the pieces.  Telling everything that THIS time it was going to be different.  JUST WAIT AND SEE!

 

All of these years later, and I’m still playing that role.  Cheerleader.  Protector.  Enabler.

 

But you broke my heart again today.  For the last time.  You’ve made your choices and I just have to let go.  I will always love you and I will always hope and pray for you, but I can’t keep supporting you.  It’s not my responsibility.  It’s not my fault.  You’re only hurting yourself.

 

I wish things could be different for you little sister, maybe someday they will.  It’s up to you.