Insomnia

I can't sleep and I'm listening to the jazz/swing station I created on Pandora. These two things usually lead to me writing another midnight note on facebook, but I have this blog now. How lovely.

So, this post will be wonderfully and delightfully vague because if you don't know who it's about, then you aren't supposed to. However, you will get my side of the situation and maybe respect me for it. Maybe not. Do I seem like the kind of person that lies when I say that I don't care what you think? I thought not...

However, this story begins when I was about... oh, seven or thereabouts. I had known you forever, and then you come to tell me that you're moving away. We were sitting in the backyard one day and you asked if I knew what that meant. I nodded. I  didn't see the real difference in you moving since we never saw much of each other anyway. But I adored you. The foolish child that I was adored you and loved you and wanted nothing more than you to love me back. But by all appearances and how you handled our little separation shows me that you probably didn't care as much as I did.

Now don't get me wrong, I know that the phone works both ways, but not knowing your schedule tends to complicate things. Besides, I knew that you would be busy and you'd call when you had the chance, right?

I'm only starting to realize how naive I was. I thought that you had some sort of personality quirk resembling a conscience. I thought that you really loved me like you said. I thought for so long that you called because you really did miss me, not because you were drunk. Yeah. I know. One of your pretty little dirty secrets. Maybe that's why you got so sick? Yeah, I knew about that. I always thought it was funny when you repeated something five times, even after I told you in all honesty that I understood. I thought that you were joking with me, trying to bond with me. I fell for that self-inflicted ruse better than you could have ever expected.

Don't get me wrong, I still loved you. I want to love you still, but there's only so much that I'm willing to put up with. And do you honestly take me for that much of a fool? Do you really think that I was raised so that I would take every line of yours like the gospel truth just because of who you are? No. No, I was raised with the belief, the firm belief, mind you, that I didn't have to take that from anyone, even you. I'm done with the lies. I'm done with wanting to love someone that I can't rely on. I am finished. Do you understand?

I didn't think you would. You're sitting at your computer, mouth agape and face slowly reddening with rage because this way, you can't get a word in. You can't talk louder than me here. You have no imagined power here. You are helpless. And while I have your undivided attention, because wimping out on me now isn't an option, I want you to know that despite my better judgement, everything that I know and want, something inside of me still loves you, still wants you to be in my life. But that's just a little part. Very easily silenced by the parts of me that would feel nothing but purest relief that I don't have to wait on your phone call to be fed my yearly allotment of lies and insincerity.

Now, if I'm wrong, and I'm almost certain that I'm not, then we'll kiss and make up. I'll forgive, but you'll have to prove that things are going to change before I pretend to forget. Do you have any idea how our negative relationship has affected me? Do you know the stupid things I've done to attempt to capture some semblance of the love I should have had from you? No, you have no idea, because if you did... Well... Things would be a little more interesting and you would be a little less apathetic.

This is just scratching the surface on our wonderfully dysfunctional relationship. Sick, isn't it? And just think, it could have all been avoided if you had some semblance of human emotion concerning me. Just so you know, the next time something goes sour and we end up sideways, I want you to step in and let me know that you have a problem, not have your cronies attack me through facebook messages. That's horribly juvenile and not even acceptable in the cliques in junior high. I handled them as best as I knew how, but they should have never been brought into it. If you have a problem, you tell me. In case you never noticed, I grew up. I'm not in the second grade anymore. The bangs I had have grown out, not that you even registered the fact that I ever had them. I got a little taller. I haven't worn overalls or Arizona jeans in years. I'm not the little girl you used to know, if you even knew her. I'm grown. I don't pretend to know everything, but I know my shortcomings. Our relationship is one of them. I intend on either fixing it or forgetting it. It's your call which I do. I can't do either of them alone, so step in, step up, and man up. Make a decision. I'm not letting you overlook this. I don't care how long you have to sit in front of your computer and how many words you have to look up. I'm emailing you this link, texting it to you, and sending a link via your beloved facebook. Get the picture? All else fails, I'll call you and read you this long emotional passage myself with dry eyes.

I'm done crying over you, do you understand? I cried when you left, I cried when we got off of the phone, I cried years later when you said that you were proud of me. I am done. Do you understand that concept? It never felt like you did. The oddest part of this is that this post is another step that I'm taking towards the door, and my eyes are dry. I feel better now that I'm telling you. I feel so much better that it's unbelievable. If I had known that it would feel this good to give you this ultimatum, I would have done it sooner.

My letters and notes and emails and notes and such about you always drag on forever. Maybe that's because we never talked about anything of substance. All we ever seem to talk about is what you're tinkering with, how little of a social life I have, and empty gestures of affection. I'm sick of the small talk. We need to get past this one way or another. I've given up on the idea of anyone reading past this far anyway. Who has the time to waste reading my blathering nonsense? Why not give up the ruse and let everyone know who I'm talking about? Who I'm talking to? Why wait and let you have a chance to step up and be a man if you won't take it? I don't care what this does to your pride or your ego or your precious little life that you have now. I'm starting to realize that I never cared.

Before I get ahead of myself and show you how beneficial breaking this sick relationship off would be for you, I want you to know a little something. You taught me how to use people. Yes, that's all on you. You taught me that people only exist when you want them to. You can call someone to assuage your guilt whenever you feel like it if you have them convinced that they love you. You can send someone a message to tell them that you're so proud of them and that you smile when you say their name when you want to take part in their success. When you want to show off and say, "Wow. Look what I have..." and you flash a picture of someone that you've barely spoken to in years... That's what people are for. That's why I let you buy me expensive things. Shiny things that sometimes, I have no need of. I let you, no, encouraged you, to buy me the expensive things that I need. I let you pick up the tab for most of my electronics. Not because no one else can/would get them for me, but because I was letting you buy my affection. Those few days, I would pretend to love you, and you would indulge me whatever shiny toy I wanted just because I batted my eyelashes and begged like a cute little girl. Do you know how easily I did that? Do you know how easy you made it? Do you know how happy it made me? Did it do anything for you at all?

No, don't answer that. You'd only lie.

Now there I go, attributing emotions and actions to you. I barely know you. Maybe what we need is to take a few days and meet each other for the first time? Grab some coffee and talk for a while? I don't know anything about you. Well, I take that back. I know your little nuclear family now. Well, sort of... I know their names, and I'm fond of one of them, and I hope she doesn't hold any of this against me. She's precious and has no place in this. But that's for another time.

Now, I'm going to send you messages through every means of communication but a phone call. That's for tomorrow. If you read it before then, please let me know. Because we do need to talk. This is nowhere near all I have to say to you.

Now for me to return what I feel was always a lie coming from you. This will be my goodnight. Maybe I'll be able to sleep now that I have all of this tension and heartache and longing and such put up for the world. I certainly do feel better. Here is where I smile, tip my hat, and say:

I love you, Daddy.