I have a very active imagination, and could logically spend hours daydreaming. I have conversations that I’d like to have with people that I haven’t talked to in years. I say all the things that I think of after the fact when that person at the store leaves me speechless. I say all the things to the fathers of my children that I can’t say to their faces.
I’d like to tell my infant’s father about the huge ball of emotions, I carry in my heart where the potential for a REALLY nice relationship was. Hurt, confusion, amazement…it’s all there. I want to see him hold his son. I want him to look at the pictures I’ve sent him and see all the ways this child is his. I want him to say “I’m sorry” so I can say “What exactly are you sorry for? Fathering this child? Dropping me like yesterdays underwear when I was so sick? or how about the blank line on his birth certificate?” No, wait…I don’t want to give him the answers. I don’t want him to know where I hurt. I’ll just ask “What are you sorry for?” and leave it there. Part of me wants him to propose so I can turn him down. You want me to move in with you? No, I don’t think so. As much as I want my kids to have a father, the risk of having to explain why *they* got dropped is just too much.
I’d like to tell my toddler’s father to take his carrot-and-stick approach about getting me to do things and shove it. Yes I need the money. Yes, you need my signature. But holding the money until you get the signature is being an asshole and is keeping food and dental work out of your son’s mouth. If you’d've just LISTENED TO ME and GIVEN ME THE VAN in lieu of child support, this wouldn’t be an issue.
I’d DEARLY love to total up how much child support my daughter’s father owes me. She’s nearly 11, and he’s never paid a cent. I just wanna see the look on his face when he realizes how much it costs to raise a child.
I’d like to find that boy I had a crush on in the 5th grade and apologize for cussing him out. Why did I cuss him out? I honestly have no idea. But I remember doing it.
I want to find the film of my behavior at an elementary-school friends birthday party. I want to see it, since she said I was in “fine form”. I want to explain to her that my behavior was pretty normal for a child of an alcoholic…especially since said alcoholic brought a pint jar to the party and was well-blitzed just in time to drive us all home. I remember the party – I was terrified most of the time, trying to draw Mom’s attention away from Dad.
I do it all…..in my lil mind.