The Thing About Me

about kids

You see these things had colored my view of the world, whether I wanted them to or not. But the story isn't done…

So the Circle Continues…

I met a girl at work. I fell in love with her and got her pregnant. Yes, I actually DO have a kid. The story is complicated. But the nuts and bolts of it were that we didn't work and I didn't know right away that I had a child coming. When I finally did, the mother didn't want anything to do with me and didn't want me to be a part of her life… I didn't really know what to do. Then we went back and forth on visitation, which never happened (while we were trying to do this out of court). I'd not seen my child, a boy, yet. Not even a photograph. I was working at a music store as a temp employee and she came in with our son to pickup a special order. I rang her up. I was told my face went white. My heart was in my throat because cradled in her arm was this perfect little person. My son. The first time I'd laid eyes on him. My ex couldn't stand me and she couldn't have gotten out of there quickly enough. I had to take some time in the break-room to process what had just happened. What the hell just happened? What was I doing?

Eventually we did go to court, visitation had been established. I was a part of my son's life for only a little while. Only a few of my cousins saw him. Neither my mom, nor my grandparents had seen him… But he was a perfect little guy. He picked up after himself. He wiped dirt off of his shoes in the park. He had most of his mom's featured, but my wide eyes and mouth. He was a better reflection of me, I felt. This one had a chance. I didn't know what the fuck I was doing… And I was scared. I was scared that I was going to fuck up and be a shitty, shitty father. I tried to ignore these feelings, but I couldn't help it. I remember one morning. He wouldn't stop crying and I didn't know what to do. I was afraid to call anyone and be “judged” though that was all in my head… No one would have judged me, surely. But I made a decision then, even though I didn't know it, that I wasn't going to “be there.” That part I've never told anyone. It's only been written here, in this post. I've told people that she's happily married and didn't want complications from “the bio” in her life; I've said that we didn't get along and so I stayed away. While it's true we didn't get along that's not why I stayed away. In short, as much animosity as there may have been, she never kept me from my son. I kept me from my son. ME. No one else. Just. Me. That's the truth. The biggest loser in all of this is my son.

About the only thing I do is pay child support. That's it. He's going to be thirteen next month. On the 4th. And… I wonder about him all. The. Time. I wonder what he's thinking about; I wonder if he even knows about me and if he does if he despises me; if he even cares… Did he come from a more stable place than I did… If he knew me, would he be proud of me? Would he hate me? I don't know. All I know is that he's an innocent fella. He plays clarinet at an academy here, in SoCal. He likes anime and he's really freaking smart. And he's a good-looking kid. I have to give thanks to my cousin for her mad Facebook skills. I'm curious about all of these things, but I don't feel like I deserve, or have earned the right to find out. How could I feel otherwise, considering, that I've done the same thing to him that my father did to me? If I did, what would it mean? This part still fucks with me… Lots. This kid deserves so much awesome and I don't want to be the person that goes fucking it up… These words are not easy for me to write. They're not easy because deep down I see myself as this awful person. It's hard to fight this feeling while knowing that all the power to do something about is right here. Or, by doing nothing, am I ensuring more of the same? I'd like to think that my son is made of better stuff than I am and I believe this to be the case.

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