The thoughts of me

This one doesnt really have a title

Okay. Wow.

This one doesn't have a title and there is a reason for that.

Please note that I am an emotional mess at 1:55 am. Sunday/Monday December 17/18.

Background:
The song above is a cover by John Meyer. The original song is Free Fallin' by Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers and I connect this song to a man that is no longer in my life but for a huge portion was my father figure. Due to said man's actions he is no longer part of my life. This man wasn't good for me or my family but as I said he was like my Dad.

What he did was horrible. I'm not excusing him at all but it still doesn't take away the pain that still strikes me from time to time. So this short story is how I see myself dealing with all of this. Dealing with the memories, the pain, the acting, and getting through it.
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"She's a good girl, loves her mamma"

The familiar words swim through my ears. A wave of nostalgia washes over me and my phone drops onto my chest.

A little girl sways gently in her small car seat in between her younger brothers. The middle child, only 16 months younger than his sister, gazes out of the window. The youngest child is only a baby and is sleeping soundly to the sound of the soft hums of his sister and father.

There is a tense mood in the small red car but the girl doesn't seem to care. She just listens to the words she doesn't fully understand. The man who drove the car always tells her that the girl in the song is like her and her mother. This song, along with many others like it, usually came from the blown out speakers.

The car rides with the tense moods, old music, swaying to unknown words, and the crowded seats where the best moments of her day. The little girl was oblivious. Oblivious to the meanings. To the signs. To everything. But she didn't know and if she did. She wouldn't care. She was young. Full of life and excitement. Full of innocence. So it was ok. She was ok during those car rides in the small beat up red car.

The memory fades and I'm brought back to my dark room in my home. Warm tears are now sliding out of the corners of my eyes as I stare up at my ceiling. I'm crying. Oh God, why am I crying? The arrest happened months ago... The last line plays out and the song ends going to the next track on my playlist.

The pain and feeling that something is missing still swirls in my chest like a whirlpool. I stare blankly at my ceiling. Nothing goes through my head as I just lay there feeling all the pain and loss of him.

My thoughts suddenly flood through my head. All of them yelling at me. Criticising me for crying over a man who has hurt my family and I so much over and over again.

Why would you cry now?! This is pathetic! Everyone has mostly moved on from this, now you are gonna cry over him because of one song that he used to listen to? He has lied, cheated, hurt, and betrayed you and your family!

I sniffles and sat up. "It's my turn to mourn now." I saw aloud to myself. "He's gone. And getting what he deserves. But he was still like a dad and I get to be sorry for that loss! I get to cry and be sad too. I still feel that pain, I still feel all the effects. It's ok to feel the loss of someone that was close to me. No matter how bad. It's not even that I miss him, I miss the comfort he gave and the position he had." More tears came from my eyes.

The music had stopped and the only sounds where my sniffling and quiet words.