My Present

In hopes that this touches someone…
I never write for other people. I may write to an audience but its always for me; my therapy, or my contribution. But, as I sit in my own struggle unsure of how to help even myself, I just hope someone reading this may find themselves comforted.
Its no secret I have a poor relationship with my biological dad. Recently he has been back in my life and I just don’t know what to do with him. I have done so much as to reconcile him and “the ideal dad” as two separate entities. In large part, I forgive him because I changed. I do not “expect” from people anymore. Well, I give a great effort to alleviate expectation from my life. In any case, I don’t know what to do with him. Where to place him. How to have a relationship with him. Presently, I’ve settled for pretending all is well and ignoring the issues between us, as they will never be resolved nor fixed. It is as it always will be.
One of my biggest fears was that my problems with my father would impede my judgment when choosing a partner. I was (am) adamant in having a man that was there. Reliably there. Emotionally there. I didn’t want to be taken care of or pampered, I wanted to be heard. Then when I wasn’t looking I found Deeds…well he found me. And today after a “thing” with my Dad I begin to question every little nuance about Deeds. Was he there ENOUGH? Did he lie? Did he hurt me? Disappoint me? I threw up my measuring stick and luckily A reminded me that, I didn’t pick Deeds out of spite. I fell in love with him. Plain and simple. Yes I’m sure at some point he will hurt me, or disappoint me…he’s human. I know that it will never be his intention to. Nor was it ever my fathers.
What I can say about the two men is that they love me. Deeds gives me so much its uncomfortable…today he just wanted to kiss me and it was SO hard because in my head I was holding my breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop. I just want to love fearlessly. I enjoy giving all of myself and knowing that I’m respected, appreciated, and protected. Who knew loving and being loved would be the hardest thing I’d ever do in life? About 4 years ago E asked me why I was afraid of love. I hated him for asking me that. Today…I can say I was afraid not of love but of losing it. Currently I’m not afraid of either. Doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt though…just means I can wipe those tears and keep on breathing.

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