He has until September 15th, then I’m journeying to the place inside of me where I still let him reside, and tossing him and all of his luggage (turns out a lot of it was empty) out onto the street. I’ve probably given him shelter far too long; I know this; it’s just that I have a hard time letting go of things that once meant so much to me.
Letting him stay is just too hard anymore—he’s zapping my resources and energy and when I think that I might have met someone worthy of my time, his ghost curls up beside me and whispers fairytales into my head,
“But I might come back, give me time, I think of you everyday”.
Why September 15th? I don’t think I have it in me to go that much longer; my mind is growing weary from the creaks that he makes crossing the floorboards, and my heart is heavy from holding the door open for so long.
I’ve let him stay for many reasons, but the only ones that are valid anymore are bright blue. They pierce me to the core of my being when I wonder how I will come up with the strength to look into them one day and tell her that her dad knows she exists, but that he doesn’t want her. The look that I’m sure will be in her eyes is the image that I’ll keep in my mind when I’m wondering if I really have it in me to let him go. I know that I’ll have a lifetime of cleaning to do after I toss him out, but I’m ready for that: it’s far better than leaving a room filled with broken promises scattered about and dashed hopes collecting dust on the shelves, wasting space in my heart.
I’m going to redecorate the room and paint it bright colors; I’m going to hang beautiful pictures of a happy family of us three girls on the walls; I’m going to let Ella draw whatever she wants on the floor, and give her a comfy chair that she can sit in if she’d like to visit there for a while; I’m going to have big windows that the breeze can roll through and a polished wood floor that the girls can slide around on as they chase rainbows from the prisms hanging from the ceiling, and a big chest where cherished memories can be stored away and visited time and again when the urge strikes. Then maybe someday when the sun is going down and I enter it, I won’t think of my former tenant and how sad and lonely the room used to be, but rather about what a beautiful place it turned out to be.
6 comments:
AMEN. (HEAD HANGING LOW) IT'S BEEN 1 1/2 YEARS FOR ME NOW AND PHIL STILL LIVES WITHIN. BOTH GONE, OUT OF OUR LAIVE, FOR TWO VERY DIFFERENT REASONS. MAY GOD CONTINUE TO GUIDE US BOTH THROUGH OUR HEALING PROCESS. I LOVE YOU- R
It's always hard to let go of someone -- especially when you had big hopes. But sometimes letting go gives you room to fly.
First I will say that is very brave of you. But more importantly don't hold on just for Little A's sake. She will sense the heartache when she is older. You see I speak from experience. I don't know my dad. I don't even know if he is still alive. He left me when I was 2. I had one fond memory that now I feel is painful since he stopped taking me to this place. When she is old enough she will be able to decide if she would like to confront him or live her life without him as he has chosen to do to her.
Be brave. Do what is best for you and your girls now. Not for the what if. I know so much easier said than done. But once you are able to free yourself of this you will be able to open up to new possibilities with someone who will love all of you as you should be loved.
I can't judge until I've walked a mile in his shoes, but who could turn his back on such gorgeous children?
I can't imagine how tough this must be for you. I just met you in blogland but you seem like a strong woman. I'm sure your girls see this (or will recognize this when they are old enough) and will respect you much more for making these hard decisions.
your daughter is beautiful. she is fortunate to have someone in her life like you. congratulations
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