I've been thinking a lot about the mother of her, knowing she's thinking of me too. I wonder how she manages my pain. That sounds like I'm putting my pain on her shoulders and that's because I am. I know she feels it. She knows I'm devastated. We were once connected enough that she knew when I was crying - three states away. She knows.
We had all the "just in case" talks long before the ruling came out. No matter what they ruling, she would've won. Imagine that. I was tricked. I knew she was lying but my heart held out hope because I also believe she knows she's wrong. If I won, she'd stand beside me and wave the big rainbow flag and we'd make a difference. We would make change. And if I lost, it's okay - we'd work it out. She would never take me out of Gray's life again - not after all of this.
I'm an idiot.
How does she justify it all? The simple answer is that she's talked herself into always being right in every situation. She knows best. She'd say she's doing what's "right". She'd say, "how can i teach her that my whole life was a sin until now but then allow her to be part of that sin?" She plans to tell my daughter that, up until she found Jesus, she lived a sinful life and that Gray was created in that sin. She compared it to a prostitute getting pregnant. A. Prostitute. Getting. Pregnant. I can say it slowly, loudly and with my angriest voice but I can never say it without tears in my eyes.
I would give anything for Gray to never hear those words. I would give anything to have her mother not feel that her life; our life was a sin.
I could also blame this on what happens when you don't take care of your relationship - when you lose each other in all the madness of infertility and toddler hood. When you start looking somewhere else to be emotionally fed and a whirlwind begins. I could blame it on Jesus since He seems to be the one that lead her to this perfect life that doesn't include me. Or better and more broad, Christianity - because that's where all the crazy's place their hate on a tray and serve it to the people that are searching their hardest for something to hold onto. They reach out and feel held but only to be judged and changed and made less than they were when they were first created. No one is born hateful. We learn that from people who learned it before us.
Today I just blame her. I blame her for wedging herself through my door and leaving a mark that has stained me. I blame her for blaming me for sinking our ship without one ounce of "me too". I blame her for denying our daughter the right to be raised by both by of her parents. I blame her for the pain Gray must feel not knowing why I haven't come back to her. I blame her for whatever reason she's given for this time gone by because it's not good enough. It won't hold her. Not like I can.
Fly Away Little Bird.
Monday, April 23, 2007
She called. No message.
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The Mother of Her
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