plop, plop, fizz, fizz.

okay so today is a lot better.
reconfirming faith can have one helluva effect on one's state of mind.
faith in anything.
in one's own self,
in the world,
in the good,
in friends,
and perhaps even family.
but i think that's perhaps the biggest cookie to chew without choking-
family, that is.
you see,
you can choose your partner,
your lover,
your friends,
even your enemies.
but the one thing, my dears,
that we do not have the leisure to pick and choose is our family.
being the oddball, quirky, OCD-control freak that i am,
this unnerves me.
i can change my scenery,
just as i did.
i can change my lovers,
just as i (painfully and blissfully) obviously did.
i can even change my friends,
but somehow the truest of all friends seem to follow you through those scenery changes.
every Hall has its Oates,
every Blanche has her Dorothy,
and every Pooh has its Piglet.
somehow it is within these scenery changes,
within these chapters,
that a character begins to come into ones' self,
via self awareness.
in that journey,
the standards in which we inexplicably compare ourselves to
are our parents.
and i think we go through these stages in which we inadverdantly loathe ourselves
because of this.
my therapist would probably disagree, but whatever.
i am learning that it is okay that this man,
was,...
he was my father.
whether i like it or not.
i cannot change that fact.
i cannot change who or what he was,
which is painfully obvious.
it is ironic to say that the embicile who was ashamed of me
was the one who did the embarrassing deed instead of me.
i am embarrassed and ashamed to HAVE to say he was my father.
but you know what?
i can change me.
that, i can do.
the only thing i shared with him was i have half of his DNA.
and that is ALL.
and you know what?
though the little girl inside of me is still saddened by every aspect of this,
the adult that i am becoming (begrudgingly) is very pleased that that is ALL i shared with him.
what a relief that is.

...
plop, plop, fizz, fizz.