My Biggest Mistake

Well, hello.  It’s been a minute.

When last I graced this site with my presence it was until celebratory circumstances. I was an award winning writer on the verge of buckling down and really giving the path of the career author the old college try.  Since then, in terms of The World Is Broken, there have been crickets.  It’s been a ghost town.

Since we last spoke I got married. Settled down and integrated my wife, her daughter and her father into my life to form a real family. Sure, it wasn’t a perfect fit, there still even today exists some friction at times about certain things, but the bottom line is, we are a family.

Or, well, at least we were.

Yeah, this isn’t going to be an upbeat and positive post – if the title didn’t already give that away.

I’ve made plenty of mistakes in my past.  (A lot of them you can find archived within the litany of posts on this very site) Nothing in my past compares to the massive blunder I’ve perpetrated, especially when you consider how long it’s been happening.

I’ve been a disconnected, cold, douchebag for ages and only realized it was happening after it it may have already cost me that aforementioned family.

What is wrong with me? Why do I always push away the ones who get the closest?  There are friends of my mine who may be surprised by this, though I’d imagine there’s just as many people unsurprised.

Looking back on the conversations over the last two months specifically… watching them go from loving memories of happy times gone past, only to degrade into not-so-subtle hints of unhappiness, to what essentially became so blatant that I don’t fathom how I couldn’t see the writing on the wall.

She didn’t do this, I did.

And what’s worse is for the first time I see it clearly with my own two eyes. It’s not a case of someone being upset by something so the other person making concessions or compromising in the interest of being civil and meeting someone halfway… I see it, first hand.  Win, lose, or draw, I have a mountain of work to do to make this right.  And I will make this right.  The prick who’s been taken up residence in my body needs to GTFO.

What kills me though, is the price I am going to have to pay for that to happen.  I know I have to fix this, I know I wont be able to live a life with any kind of fulfillment if I don’t.  But there’s a real solid chance that I’m already too late to repair the damage done to these new family ties.  There’s no conceivable way to convince someone that “I can change” is not a desperate attempt to cling to something you don’t want to lose.  That it’s something that’s only going to happen because of that fear of loss… and indeed if that were the case, the moment the fear is gone.. so will be the progress.

I need to show her, to show them, that I am not talking about a fair weather change, I’m talking about fixing and deconstructing a core flaw in who I am as a person, and who I want to be as a man.

I get this may be a little vague. I’m still formulating and processing what’s circling my head and heart right now.  But on the road to recovery one thing I absolutely know I must do is rediscover what makes me who I am.  What makes me the person I used to be, and one of the first things that came to mind was this… writing.  It always comes back to writing.

So here I go.

This, at least for now, will be the documentation of how I was able to save my family and everyone lives happily ever after, or how I will move on and survive losing the best thing that has ever happened to me.

Time will tell,

Wish me luck…

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