Sonday.

Last night I watched them play in their jammies, just wrestling around and giggling, and making all sorts of high pitched noises. It reminded me of watching puppies rolling around, taking little nips at each other, and generally being all sorts of cute. It was absolutely beautiful.

Sebastian’s getting older so he’s more reluctant to ask for hugs and kisses, except at bedtime. Antonio is still a little mush though, and I squeeze him every chance I get. I do this because I know I don’t have much time left. Sebastian is climbing the roller-coaster track already, and Antonio should be hitting another spurt any month now. Before long, they won’t need my hand to hold to cross the street anymore, and squeezes and kisses will be something I will look back on, and wish so much that I didn’t miss so many of them. I wonder if I’ll hate her then. I’ll end up blaming her for taking so many moments from me, and I’ll die a lonely, young, and bitter man.

I have made so many mistakes with them. And I know no parent is perfect, and I am hard on myself.

Knowing this is no consolation whatsoever.

I start to break when I imagine them getting older, and lashing out at me for my shortcomings as a parent. Will they be bitter? Will they do the things I did? Will I be able to do anything about it? I know they love me now, despite my failings. But they are still just little boys. They will be bigger than me, and I’m fairly certain they are already smarter. When they begin to understand things fully, will they still love me?

So few are the moments when I can quietly appreciate them, being them. I stood there watching, and a question formed in my mind, ‘why was I ever so intent on cluttering this up?’ I jammed so much nonsense down their throats, and tried to fit people in places where they did not belong. I really wanted to be happy, but I wasn’t. I may have simply lost the capacity at this point.

My two little pups. Watching them talk, and play, and sleep is a pleasure. Perhaps this is pure assumption, but I approach every potential dating situation thinking they will be considered burdensome and inhibiting. It is because of this that I act the way I do, which is to say, a strong mix of enthusiasm, and reluctance. Many are understanding of facts, but few are truly able to appreciate what they mean. And some pretend to understand, but they fail to recognize the reality about to hit them. And some, are just monstrous, plain and simple.

So well meaning folk lay gems of advice for you to harvest and die masturbating with,

“You’ve gotta work on you”,

“You can’t rely on someone else to make you happy”,

“Sometimes you gotta just be on your own a while.”,

….etc

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Thanks. And it always comes from (insert pal name here), whose been in a relationship with (insert name here), who looks like they just stepped off a runway in milan.

Easy for you to say friend.

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So I’ll continue to soil paper towels, and bury my face into the two pillows that make one body. Because at the very least, I always awake with no regrets.

One reply

  1. M says:

    My dad fucked up a lot.
    I hug and kiss him every chance I get.

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