Friday, 8 June 2012

Broken Angel- Part I

You showed him all the best of you, but I'm afraid your best wasn't good enough. He never wanted you...

at least not the way you wanted yourself to be loved. You feel like you were a mistake...he's not worth all those tears that won't go away...
Still you try to impress him
But he never will listen
Broken angel
Were you sad when he crushed all your dreams?
Inside you're dying 'cause you can't believe he would leave you so cold when you were his daughter.

But the blood in your veins as you carry his name turns thinner than water.

You've grown up with this notion that you were to blame. You seem so strong sometimes, but I know that you still feel the same as that little girl who shined like an angel, even after his lazy heart put you through hell.

You're just a broken angel

       It has been two years. Two years of wanting this dispersed off my shoulders. This weight off my broken heart...
Two years since my "father" walked away. Away from his family, his beliefs, his life...
His addictions were more essential than his family.
Always putting wants in front of needs.
His selfish hands always wanting more.
At first, I was numb. I could cover it all...but the ache never stopped. 
Almost as if I wasn't affected by his absence. And honestly, maybe I wasn't to a certain extent. Maybe because we didn't have a strong relationship to begin with, it wasn't as bitter of a farewell. It took a few months to hit me. I can now see how this has affected almost every aspect of my life. 4 to 5 months after his departure I went to a very dark place. It was hard for me to leave my bed. I cried myself to sleep every night for months. I didn't want to see or talk to anyone. I didn't want friends. I didn't want to be around anyone. I was doing nothing with my life. Constantly wanting to hide under my covers for days and wishing it would all go away by the time I re-appeared...
      This story is different for me than it is for my siblings. At age 8 I knew the kind of person my father was. 
At just 8 years old I knew the kinds of things my father was entagled in.
For 9 years I kept this knowledge to myself. Never once telling my mother or my siblings. The sole reason I never had the kind of relationship with my father that the rest of my siblings had. To my siblings, he was up on a pedestal-as he was smart, athletic, good looking, charismatic, and well known in the community.  Their relationships were entirely based on sports anyways, never on things that mattered. My mother tried to be a good wife and be his biggest fan. Always sacrificing herself for his well being and that of our family in general.
I have never been good enough for him. Never worthy of his love or time. The only time he paid any sort of attention was during sports. Even then, I was never good enough. I will never be good enough. Years of trying to impress him and win his love got me where I am today...nowhere. What kind of daughter should have to beg her father for his love and affection? I will never be able to dance with my father at my wedding, he will never be able to go to the temple with me, I don't have a father to walk me down the aisle, my children will never know their grandfather...
A father who could be so self seeking and walk away from everything he helped create remains beyond my comprehension. As far as I am concerned, my father was dead to me the moment he walked out the door. I have begged and begged him to change his life. Within the span of these two years he has not done one thing to change his circumstances. He doesn't care to. He is not concerned with us or how this affects us. It amazes me how one persons selfish decision can affect so many other lives. A decision made without any regard as to how it would affect anyone else. It is beyond me how someone could mutilate everything pure and sacred. Be able to leave behind the most important things in life with no remorse. No heed to the affliction he could cause to so many battered hearts.
His misconception of the truth is baffling. I can’t believe in words I have heard a million times. Words used just to clear his conscious. Sunken words. “I love you” has become a lie. Nonetheless, it is a lie I haven’t been told in years.
       In a way, I am grateful he left. Glad to have a poison sucked out of our lives. I am who I am because of him. My testimony has never been stronger. I am no longer naive. I wouldn't be as strong or faithful as I am today if he hadn't have left. it took him leaving for me to realize what the most important things in are in life. Family and God. I have learned that people leave your life for a reason. God would never take something away without the intention of replacing it with something better.


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