Resignation

   

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     I wish I could say that in 2012, my world shattered. That the text I received in that airport in Mississippi was the start of a chain reaction that saw my world torn asunder and the only anchor in my life ripped from me.

    But if I am being honest, it didn't start there, did it? I am not sure when it started since I was always so obsessed with being the best son I could be. I could say it started in high school, when I was one of the best students in class and you just wanted me to try harder. I could say it started in middle school when my sister wandered off and I got in trouble for it. I could say it started when you began leaving the house for deployments in the middle of the night just so we wouldn't cry when you left. But in truth, I don't know when it started.

    At some point, you decided that keeping me at a controllable distance was better than letting me be vulnerable. At some point, you decided that emotions were my greatest weakness and not my greatest strength. At some point, you decided I needed to be the son you wanted instead of the one you got.

    And I let you. I let you move me from place to place so you could have your job. I let you two separate when you were having marital problems, even though it hurt to be away from one of you for two whole years. I let you keep secrets from me even though I saw you two weren't yourselves. I let you bail on a trip to see me so you could be together again. I let you ignore the plays and shows I was in, even though I was genuinely excited about them.

    In fact, I trusted you so much that I kept things to myself so I would be seen as the son you wanted. My first fight in school. All the times I got bullied in school for being weird. The time a friend of mine attempted suicide in front of me and the following detention I got trying to stop another friend from doing something stupid. My love of parkour. My fear of failing in the military. My fear of being killed in the military. My fear for your safety whenever I heard something happening near you. My hurt when you abandoned me again and again. My hurt when I learned you didn't trust me. The ache in my chest when I see you aging before me. The loss I feel when I think back to the family members I have lost. Uma, Umpa, Granny, Pepa. The loss I feel thinking of the friends I will never see again. The betrayal I feel when you call me out for having my emotions instead of helping me deal with them.

    But the worst part about all of this is I don't hate you. I have never once hated you for everything you have done to me. Instead, I hate myself. I hate myself for wanting more. I hate myself for being frustrated and mad at you. I hate myself for not being more tolerant of your behaviors. I hate myself for not letting you be yourselves and moving on with my life.

    There are a couple of people who could read this and it will make total sense to them. Of those, there are two that this article pertains to. Sadly, I am out of their sight and out of their mind. They have never looked at this blog and I don't suspect they will anytime soon. But if they ever did, the following is for them.

    I don't hate you. I love you more then anything else in the world. It really hurts to do this, but I have to give us all the space we need right now. I can't keep waiting for you to give me something you have never given me before. I know you can't. I know your childhoods were rough and cruel and that demanding something never given to you is equally rough and cruel. It would only cause all of us pain later.

    So it is with a heavy heart that let you go. I want you to have the space you need to be yourselves and I need the space I need to be myself. I will stop calling weekly. I will stop waiting for you to be interested in what I do. I will stop waiting for you to read this blog. I am going to move on and pursue the life I want. I hope you have happy lives and I am sorry for any trouble this causes.