Broken Promises

Chapter 31 - Final Closing

This last section is the one I have dreaded the most I think, because it is when an epiphany is supposed to be shared. Some catharsis to be had. Peace to be reached. If only life worked like that. There are some truths I have learned that cannot be denied, and not all of them are pretty. Some are downright vile.

If you can breathe when you finish writing, you have not done it right. So many of these words have left me gasping for air. I have lost more tears over these pages than I can fathom. Each memory triggers another memory, usually one more painful that was hiding just below the surface.

I realize just how alone I am. I no longer fit in with my family. It is as if I am shifted out of phase with the world. I am no longer a real person. I am a misprogrammed Sim in a video game. I have no clue how to balance life. I have no idea how to regain a sense of control that works on a sustainable basis. Maybe in the end we are all just a Sim in someone else's game, hoping we are fortunate enough to meet the right people along the way.

We will all experience the death of a loved one in our lifetime. Some of these deaths will be expected and some may even seem a sad blessing that relieved the suffering of an elderly, frail loved one. Still, there will be those deaths that carve us to our core and fracture our soul due to the loss of a parent, sibling, or what I feel is the most painful loss, a child. I learned these lessons through you. One of the biggest lies a person will be told after the death of someone is that it will get better in time, that it will hurt less. I have heard it, and I have likely also told it to someone. We seem to regain a little solace thinking that what we feel at that moment is the worst it will get, that the blazing pain that consumes us will burn out into a smolder at some point in time.

Nothing could be further from the truth.

The truth is far more sinister and vicious. My soul will not hurt less over time. It does not get easier. It does not, cannot relent. Instead what happens is far worse. Every cell of my being is permeated by this unrelenting pain. My emotional DNA is altered by this cancerous pain. They will slowly begin to accept the deep pain as the new status quo. I know that this is how it will always be. It is the only way I can emotionally survive. This blaze that refuses to relent will flash over without warning for the rest of my life, just waiting for my emotional guard to relax before pouncing and ripping out my emotional throat. I will be awakened in the middle of the night, unable to breathe through the tears that roar out of mw speaking a language I cannot interpret, but whose words I understand in the deepest reaches of my core. It is just as likely to keep increasing in magnitude as feelings seem intent on drowning me. I will spend the rest of my life trying to breathe through the waves of loss. I will get just enough air to keep going. And I will spend my life pretending.

As the pain continues, the mind will lose the battle. It can only fight to stay alive for so long. It will slowly accept that we will forever have this unbearable hurt that will never diminish or go away. My mind will reluctantly accept that this is my new normal. It will readjust itself so that the pain level of eleven is now defined as a two. It is still eleven, but I just change its scale. It is my forever background pain and is pulled out of the equation that defines how I am feeling. My mind says that this is my new happy, even though happy is the furthest thing from what I honestly am. It also demands that I perpetuate the lie to others so I can also lie to myself. Maybe if I say it enough, it just might be true. Just maybe it will hurt less. Just maybe I can eventually be happy again. See, I might even be able to convince myself if I lie enough. I remain broken.

As someone wise recently told me when I asked her a question...

"How do you unbreak the broken?"

- You leave them broken. Broken with purpose is much better than whole with none.

I have one final message for you baby girl. These are the few hundred words I have worked to tell you and hidden behind all the others. I am so sorry I let you down. The one thing a man is supposed to do is protect his children. I blame myself for not protecting you when I felt things were wrong. All it would have taken was me to stand up for you and demand the c-section. That failure as a father feels like a betrayal of self and leaves me thinking I do not deserve a family. I do not feel that I deserve to be loved. I certainly never deserved to be your father. I deserve to have my love unreturned. I do not deserve to ever be called Dad. So I will keep my hurt and carry it as my penance. I will never lay it down. I will hold it close all my days, and I will not shed it until I see you and tell you these words in person.

I love you with all the love a soul can hold. The one truth is no one has ever been loved as much as I loved you. I can never apologize enough for failing you. You deserved better. You deserved a dad like my dad. A dad who would have done whatever it took to protect you. I am so incredibly sorry I was never worthy to call you my daughter, but I am forever proud of how hard you fought for every breath you took.

You had a birth date, and then you would have a death date. There would be a dash in between to represent the life that you did not live. In your case, that dash faded, just like your life. All life gave you were two dates as if you were only just a beginning and end, not worth the unnoticed dash between. But for me, you represent my entire dash. It is yours now and forever.

And these are the words I will carry for you.

"I am a shadow.

I no longer dream in color.

I don't count by 7s.

Because in this new world I don't count."

― Holly Goldberg Sloan, Counting by 7s

With all my love,

Your  dad