Wednesday, March 22, 2006

About Time

  So, last week, I called my real dad, finally. I can say that I did so with more than a little trepidation. The call seemed to go ok, only I didn't tell him the real reason for calling him. I sort of lied to him. I only told him that my mom had wanted me to contact him. I told him she told me this before she was murdered. The real reason for the call just seemed too cheesy to me.

 

           I am 46 years old, and he is 69(he told me when I called). How do you tell another man that a woman loved him all her life, and now she is gone? I have done some weird things, but that has to top them all. I tried to tell him, but we ended up talking about what I have been doing for all of these years. I am no good at that sort of thing.

 

            I think that it would have taken too many of the "feelings" that I have buried, and hidden for far too long in my life. Maybe it would have taken some sensitivity...I am also lacking in that department. I guess I am a "typical" man. I refuse to show a weakness, a chink in the armor. I have armed myself so well against the outside world that I am no longer able to feel.

 

              That last sentiment is no surprise to me. I learned long ago to stop feeling things about people. It seemed to protect me against the harshness of the world...it kept me insulated against being "hurt" by others. If anything, I have learned to strike first, and not let the other person get a hit in. I know it sucks, but what else could I do?

 

             Holla' If You Hear Me!!!

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