numb fingers

although it’s been a week – i’m still recovering.
recovering from another father’s day.
I cannot even fathom how 11 years have passed so quickly.

i almost hate summer for that very reason. it reminds me of anniversaries.
it’s not like the rest of the year doesn’t either.
like other birthdays. and christmas. and simple little milestones.

again. i didn’t ask for pity. i never have and i never will.
the thought of your pity makes me almost physically ill.
i just want a hand.
someone who doesn’t even need to say anything.

i was bombarded with news last week. long-awaited, yet completely unwelcome.
those unrequited feelings from years past – and i am not ok with it.
i was reminded of those selfish actions in my present, and your tactless actions from the past.
the way i was completely cut off. and destroyed by the loss of friendship.
no romantic feelings or promises or wishful thinking could repair that now.

and here i am. another sunday evening rolls around where we dread the next day’s looming work week.
weak.
i am here because of love.
now, i am not free from selfishness – as humans no one is.
but this is selfless. this is love. this is my giving everything to be here.
this is sacrifice.
this is a completely unbalanced lifestyle.
if i put you first – you should do the same for me? and then no one would be left?
i guess people don’t work that way – you find that people take. they take and they revel in that. in the taking.
and the return investment is spent on selfish endeavors.
is this a sustainable lifestyle? is burning yourself out on love and giving sustainable? when it’s rarely returned?
small gestures are accepted, noticed and greatly appreciated.
i do not take for granted waking to kisses. or coffee to go. i do not take for granted dinner cooked. or dogs walked.
i think there is more to love.
i mean.
i give that. i do. i never feel like i have not given enough.
i am secure in what i give.
i am secure in how i love.
much like my father did.

it’s days like today, storms like the one that is now raging – that remind me of the fork in the road i did not take.
i don’t think it would be better elsewhere. don’t get me wrong.
the grass is never greener.
the grass is definitely NOT greener.
i foresee deep regret were I to cross the fence.
but.
as it is now.
the house is shaking from thunderbolts and i’m completely dreading tomorrow.
father’s day must have put me in a downward spiral. the lack of understanding and empathy can also be the culprits.

i wonder if I should start singing more.
i haven’t had the slightest urge.
it does not please any longer.
it’s not even mentioned.
where it used to be so exciting.
and i feel second rate. as outreaching hands are swatted away and hearts are not crushed, but cease to beat.

there is no escaping self-importance.
there is no escaping your place at the bottom rung. no matter where or who you run to.
i wonder if your worth is stamped on your forehead. always to be carried with you.
regardless of what you demand or give.
it shall always be. second rate?
i think second rate almost seems like a compliment at this point.

there is just an immediate need for recognition. for compassion. and empathy.
instead of selfishness and isolation.