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Final Post - Day of Infamy

Despite All Obstacles.  I chose this name for my blog, one fitting to the life I lead, in 2009 when blogging was a hip new way to journal.  I've since written over a thousand stories--very few in the last handful of years--as a legacy of sorts for my Children, in a digital world that has been stripped of photo albums.  Today is my very last post, last chapter, last story from the perspective of one with an idyllic life; my hopes today are very different... not that my children will read lengthy novels in an era where time is not afforded, rather that they remember me well, if they choose to remember at all.

The obstacles in my life have been mostly self-created.  Since marrying Petra at seventeen, I only ever wanted a life that was honorable and worthy to be proud of.  Each child that was born into the family added strength, value, pride and prestige, to the point I truly felt King of the World--or King Daddy as Jolina would say.  The journey from beginning to end was riddled with long spans apart... deployments and war and jail, overseas contract jobs and tough labor jobs hundreds or thousands of miles away, for days, weeks, and months at a time.  All of my heart, all of my thoughts were focused on restoring the fabric of my family that deteriorated every time I left.  My ultimate goal in life, was to build a home in a place we loved, and have a job that afforded me the opportunity to be home with my family every night.  It's what I lived for.  It's what I worked toward; every day, month, and year.

In 2013, the final fade began.  Working half a world away in Mexico, I met Maria.  She was every bit of the friend that I never had in Petra.  Against every good sense within me, we slept together... and never stopped until recently.  I found myself attracted at a deep intellectual level to Maria, and the newness of our physical relationship was a bonus.  Conversely, Petra and I had built our marital foundation on physical attraction--not entirely, but we used sex to paint over a multitude of marital issues, namely fighting in general.  I also continued sleeping with Petra.  Today, Petra and I have seven children together, and Maria and I have one together.  The faults which caused so many fights with Petra in the past have been largely amended, and we get along better than ever... nevertheless, I found myself in love with two women, and my heart could not decide which way to go.

Almost three years ago, one-time friend Ryan McAdoo warned that if I didn't break it off with one of them, I'd lose them both.  Last night, that's exactly what happened.  The attractions have faded... if my shame-driven distaste for both women exists today, I can only imagine what they think of me.

My heart turns to my children.  When I kissed them last night before bed, leaving unabruptly with the excuse that I had to work, Cara and Jolina did not ask when I was returning home.  They both asked "if" I would be returning home.  Never again, my little Angels.  It's not my home.  Ironically, it is almost five years ago to the day, that I told Petra I wanted a divorce... words I instantly regretted as they rolled off my tongue to commence, until today, the worst day and following period of my life.  To do it all over would only be tiresome and painful; I should never have slept with Maria to begin with, and though we have a beautiful child together which I do not regret, I should have ended our relationship at any of the fifteen opportunities that we mutually provided to each other.

No man has ever felt love for his children the way I do.  I identify as a "Superdad."  Today I seek a new identity, as the burden of feeding these tender children becons ever more loudly and I must disappear in search of work, at the nether regions of my severely depressed industry and in the wake of having run my business upon the rocks.  New Year's Eve is tomorrow, and though this happened once before and I've spent it apart more times than I can count, I've never felt more alone.  I have no friends, I have no money, I have no food, I have no future, I have no hope.  This is written from a cold storage-unit wood shop hours from anyone I've ever loved and days from anywhere else I'd rather be, where just a week ago I worked tirelessly to pour love into wooden creations for my kids that they could unwrap on Christmas morning.  It was an amazing Christmas.

The obstacles I created were too big.  They won.  My mountain of sins and regrets have piled onto me and there is no light, there is no tunnel.  I will never love again.

This post first appeared on Despite All Obstacles, please read the originial post: here

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Final Post - Day of Infamy


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