Of Pens and Swords

I’d probably try and figure out how to program a macro into it, that everytime I slapped the easy button, someone in the world would be programmed with ‘reality vision’. Ahh, I’ll just place that in the wishful thinking pile.

A little bit about reality. The reality that weighs heavy today, and has been for a couple of years now, is that I’m going to watch my daughter grow up not trusting me. Her mom always on the lookout for the next Daddy to her probably doesn’t help much. I get chastised by her for not being interactive in her life as much as I should. Outwardly, this is correct, I don’t. Some of the reasons are that for one, I do not like talking to the ex. Any time I get a call to talk to my daughter, I get to spend 2 minutes talking to her, and 20 minutes listening to redundant babble from someone who’s drunk, then having her give the phone back to my daughter hearing her say, tell your daddy goodnight and hang up.

I have to deal with my daughter growing up seeing men as the cause of pain, because she’s introduced to a new ‘uncle’ once a year, only to see them go away for what ever reason is given her. I’m afraid that by the time she is an adult, she’s going to view men as a throw away device like a coffee cup, and confuse the act of sex with the act of love.

I dealt with this when I was a kid to a certain extent. I had a mom that told me stories about how evil of a man my dad was. This is what I grew up with, and when I first got to start seeing him when I was about 10 or so, at first I was very mistrustful. It sure didn’t help that I had a roll model like my sister’s dad to make comparisons to. It took me years to realize that it wasn’t my dad that the stories came from.
Oddly, my sister’s dad is the one guy my dear old mom pushed me towards, had me spy against, so forth. This man seemed to fit the time and situation perfectly. He first got me drunk when I was 11, smoked pot with me that same summer, and introduced porn to me, specifically, with pictures of women he had been cheating with on my mom. He showed me the importance of beating your wife and how it really shows everyone what a man you are. Oddly enough, this is the perfect gentleman that my mom pushed me towards as a father figure. That and her dear cousin Raymond…another swell guy.

This is what I’m afraid is going to happen to my daughter in a way. There isn’t an easy button to fix this unfortunately.

My daughter is young, and like all young people, they listen to everything, remember everything, and think that what their parents say is true. The fact that her mom doesn’t have a job is probably heard plenty, but also about how ‘your dad’ isn’t helping out like he should is also probably heard. She’ll hear this, not realizing that it is her mom’s responsibility to provide for her also. She won’t realize that daddy already allocates twice as much for her than any other person that he has to support. She doesn’t realize that daddy had to move away so that he could provide for her.

I don’t know. I don’t think I’m going to write about this, or the ex, any longer. I know and realize that this is going to be an ongoing issue, that I’ll feel the repercussions of this until the day I die, so forth. I’ll do what I can to be in my daughters life, to provide for her, and to hopefully help her secure a decent future. I’ll do what I can to be the one stable man in her life as she sees all the ‘uncles’ move on, and hopefully in 20 years she’ll realize that. I’ve always lived with the philosophy that I have to accept those things in which I can’t change, and inversely, do what I can to influence those that I can.
I’m tired of trying to explain that it wasn’t my fault that someone’s life was destroyed because she got pregnant, and I’m tired of having to pay for that. I know it wasn’t solely my fault, and I know that I go out of my way to do what I can for my daughter.

So, I guess this is me hitting the easy button. I’ll do what I can always, to be a positive influence for my daughter, and to support her in any way I can. I realize the ex doesn’t know the difference between some things such as sex and love, or that love is a continual act and not a gut feeling one gets with a crush. I realize that there isn’t anything more I can do.