Storms

It's a little after 5:30 pm and I'm sitting on the front porch of the house where my apartment is located. The sky is confused. There is blue skies to the east and dark clouds to the west and a brisk wind to blow everything about.

I have tried so hard to keep myself together, yet, like the sky tonight, I am full of darkness (mostly) and light (very little). I feel the darkness pulling me down and I'm not sure how long I have until I just can't fight the demons anymore.

For years I have struggled to have a relationship with each of my sons and I have finally given up . I can no longer take the animosity from Connor, and Hunter wants nothing at all to do with me. Then there's Matthew. 

Matthew.

My first born.

Words fail to pinpoint everything I feel right now when I think of Matthew. I am both deeply disappointed and proud of all the things he did right.  I am nail-spitting angry and compassionate.  I love him with all my heart and despise him in the same breath.  The urge to punch him in the face and hold him in my arms are equally as fierce. I'm ashamed of him.

Matthew has turned into the type of person I have hated all my life: a child molester. I have always believed child molesters should be shot on site. No questions asked.

Then my son became one.

He molested HIS OWN CHILD.

He molested MY GRANDSON.

Of course I blame myself for all of it. I'm the one who split up our family. I'm the one making poor decisions, being selfish and self centered. I put my needs above all others. I had no right to do that.

Now I am a mother who has no kids. I can easily disappear into the abyss and they wouldn't even know it. Ha! Then again, I've never been very present in their lives anyway.

I have so many letters to write, to say my piece. None of which will matter to any of them because by the time they receive them, they probably won't bother to read them anyway, I will be gone.

Poof!

Unhappiness covers me like a wet blanket and the weight of all my mistakes, regrets and bad decisions has me bolted to the floor. There is no goodness or happiness left in me because I gave it all away to people who would not - or could not - or couldn't care less - to give it back in kind.

I loved only one man, with everything I had and, I can only hope, he loved me even a little bit in return. I will never know. It certainly felt as if he did and I will hold onto that sliver of sunshine until I am no more.

There will be no pieces to pick up, no memories, photographs or journals left behind for anyone to look through to try to figure out who I was, what really mattered to me, or all the hopes and dreams I held onto for so long just waiting to share it with someone. Anyone.

There will be nothing to fight over. No bequeaths, no instructions; nothing.

Only a letter addressed to each person I loved in the life that I lived, even if they never loved me in return.

The storm continues to rage...