Ache

On Friday, I made the stupid trek to the prison to take these kids to see their biological father.  You know the one taht donated the sperm to make them exist?  Yeah, him.

We get there and there is none of our names on the pass.  And my son crumbles.  I?  I have smoke coming from my ears.  And I fume dragging them from the prison compound, cursing this pile of flesh in my mind.  This pile of flesh that I joined myself with all these years and just want to be done with.

My son asks me why his father doesn't love him? What the fuck?  Are we serious?  This is what I have to face?  Yes. Because it was my decision to walk down the aisle and make a life with him.  Little did I know just how jacked up this decision was going to prove to be.

I ached.  I ached so hard that I wanted to lay down and cease to exist.  Not die, just cease to exist.  Simply because the pain and angst in my seven year old was somehting so heavy and Ic ouldn't take it from him.

At home, they were distracted.  They were reassured they were love through laughter and hugs. And then a talk that let them know that they are indeed wonderful little people and in a round about way, their dad is a jackass.

I don't care what pain is between us, I don't care how much I wish I could cut his existence out of my life. I am mindful of his part in my kids' being here. I am mindful that a relationship and bond was developed with them and I am responsible for protecting them.  Protecting them from his bullshit.  This new presence in their life hasn't come to replace or supplant their father.  But he is simply there and it is more than I can ask.

He takes them as his own and doesn't blink about it at all.  And for that words cannot express...There aren't enough words, there aren't enough ways to say how I feel about this or the way it warms me up inside.  The way that you can trust someone with physical pieces of you, it floors me.

My son is an amazing kid, and right now we are in a phase of hard to communicate.  My temper fuse is short and some days I am just not feeling up to the task of taking him in hand.  I don't want him to ever think he's losing his mama too.  I am here and I love him.  And we curl up at night reading and talking about life.  Despite all of this going on, he has made excellent grades and strides on his report card.  And with major exams coming up, I await to see how he is going to manage.

I am so proud of him and often don't tell him because I am often yelling at him because we are at each other's throats.  And this is something I vow to work on.