Like a famous artist once asked, I too asked myself: “how could you leave me standing in a world so cold?” Standing there, after three years of raising a child together, holding that little girls hand as we both watch you walk away without turning back once. The countless “daddy, where is KS?” The echoing “daddy, why do we live in a new apartment?” So many times I have to give the excruciating explanation: “baby, it’s just you and I now–we’re not going to see KS anymore. It’s going to be ok.” I’m not sure if Lila ever sensed that I was telling a half-truth because I in fact had no idea if it was going to “be ok.” I just knew that I had to be strong for my little girl–and despite the emotional despair I felt inside after being left by the woman I love, and simultaneously giving up alcohol–I couldn’t let Lila see her daddy cry. I continue to ask myself “why would someone who expressed so much love for us until the moment she left, and even after leaving, just give up? Why would someone say we are a family–and when we hit a crossroad, she went left, and pushed us right?” I guess hearts lie–and when the truth is finally exposed–only one is left standing confused and perplexed. To this day I get angry with myself for still loving her–and each time I take one step forward–a dream or random thought takes me two steps back. It makes me feel weak.
Instead of continuing to stand in the cold–I have to adopt the perspective that this experience will in fact show me just how warm life can be. I want to shed my emotional jacket that protects me from the emotionally cold aspects of life, and umbrella that shields the rain/clouds for the sunshine. I want to shed some layers–and move forward. I am approaching 200 days sober, and despite residual pain, I know once the pieces continue to come together, I will see that the best of what life has to offer is still in front of me.
Today I have thought about the past too much–and I am continuously told that six months sober, after years being drunk, is still a small amount of time. You can’t expect to feel 100 percent at this point–but the understanding that six more months sober may bring additional clarity is reassuring. One step at a time, right?
I pick Lila up from school today–and i’m taking her roller skating tonight. I can’t wait to give her a hug–because her hugs take away any pain that exists inside. Here’s to a better tomorrow.