Regrets

We all have them.  We all have tons that we openly admit to others.  We have some darker ones that we keep to ourselves.  We have maybe one or two that we share with a close someone.  Shit if I don't have a half a dozen to two dozen regrets.  I regret making out with my girlfriend because she ended up being a piece of shit.  I regret cheating on Chris Vincent because he really is a good, solid dude.  I regret flirting with that guy behind the bar that one time because I got too drunk and puked all over my shoes.  See, who doesn't have at least a few regrets hidden and tucked away for rehashing from time to time.

 

Some of us are lucky enough to have that one regret that plays over and over in our minds until it drives us stark raving mad or at least super extra uncomfortable that we tuck it away for another time to dust off and drive ourselves crazy with.  I have one of those, and it's kind of a doozy.  Although, to be fair, whenever one says that, it is, in fact, a doozy to them.  It's my doozy, not your doozy, but it doesn't make it any less shitty. 

 

 

I miss my dad.  I remember the defining moment like it was this morning.  He called my house, and I told my then-husband to tell him to fuck off.  I told him to fuck off because I thought I was doing the right thing; having another family member's back.  I mean, hell, he hurt that family member really bad so I was informed.  It was only my civic duty as a family member to stand by this person through thick and thin, no matter the consequences.  I guess I never really did give any thought to the fact that he might not be there the next day to accept my apology should I ever find it in me to offer him. 

 

 

I have never in my life felt such remorse for being such a piece of shit to my father as that moment.  I relive that moment just about once every other month.  It doesn't sound like a lot, but when it hurts so bad you cry in your car on the way home from work because you don't want anyone to know what a fucking asshole you feel like, then, yeah, it's often enough.  I wish to my very soul that I had taken that phone call.  I do not believe that he would still be alive this evening because of that.  I just believe that I would have been able to have a couple more months of added memories with my dad.  I am so much like him that sometimes I get angry, but then when I take a minute to think about why he acted the way he did sometimes growing up, and because I am a mom now, I almost fully understand why he reacted the way he did. 

 

 

I didn't have my dad's back at an incredibly crucial time.  In fact, I didn't even need to have anyone's back per se, but yet I took sides, I stood a ground that wasn't mine to stand on.  I regret it once every other month, in my car, on my way home from work.  I won't do it again.  You can't walk a fine line without consequences however, and that is why I won't walk that line.  I've chosen the path on which I walk; the path with not the greatest of outcomes, the path with some shitty consequences.  I will continue to choose sides because you walk this earth as a line walker or a back sider.  This time, I choose me. 

 

I miss my dad.  He deserved so much better than I gave him.  It's up to me to forgive myself for the way I treated him.  Maybe this is the beginning of that self-forgiveness.  I will do for me and mine what I need to do even if it hurts others' feelings in the process.  My only intention is to keep the happiness I have found and helped create close to my heart.  Not everyone is allowed in.  It's my turn to have my own back.  I apologize if some aren't allowed to follow.