Thursday, September 17, 2009

The Little Wall I’ve Built for Myself

Many painful and confusing questions walk with me each and every day. Some of them are about God. Others, not so much. When you’ve lost the man that means the most in your life due to a stupid act of hatred, how are you supposed to think that God is walking beside you? How are you supposed to know that He’s there and that He cares when your life just got flipped upside down before Him and you feel like He did nothing to stop it? Why can’t we know the purpose behind His sometimes-outrageous doings? Why can’t He just come right out and tell us what went wrong, instead of putting the pieces together painfully one by one before our very eyes?

I feel like my dad is watching over me all the time now, but I don’t feel that God is with me at all. I feel like He has betrayed me in one way or another. I feel like He’s punishing me for something that I didn’t do. I feel that He’s left me to fight this battle alone. At this point, I’m losing that battle. I feel like it’s me against the world, six and a half billion to one. I don’t think I can win. Do you?

I think I’ll just drown in the downpour of the rain, the tears, the hurt, the anger, and these unanswered questions. I have to show the world that I really do care about him. I have to show them that he was my hero, my mentor, and my daddy, and that he always will be, even though he’s not physically here anymore.

I’ve been thinking about everything that happened to my daddy that night lately, and one thing I decided is that I wish that everyone’s life, as odd as this sounds, could be a like a video game. I just want the extra lives that you receive in a video game. I think it would be great if we started out with five lives that we could use whenever the one before it ran out. They would disappear one by one, and when you’ve finally used up the last one, you would easily start over with five new lives.

If life were like a video game, my daddy would still be here. Kim would have killed him and all my dad would have had to do is start the day over and try again. He wouldn’t have felt any pain, just the anger of having to start his day over again. But he wouldn’t be gone. Not like he is now. Not like he is in the real world.

Sadly, life is life. You only get one chance to live. When someone takes that one life from you, it’s over. You don’t get to start your day over and you don’t get a redo. You’re physically gone forever, leaving your family and friends to grieve, leaving them wishing that you were still with them. I haven’t really accepted that my daddy’s gone. I keep thinking that he’s just gone on vacation. I keep thinking that he’s going to come back. But I know, deep down inside, that he’s not. I know that Kim killed him. I hope he pays for that. But I know that nothing can bring my dad back. I haven’t really checked back in with reality for a long time now, and I’m not looking forward to the time when I’m forced to look over the little wall I’ve built for myself – when I’m forced to move on. I know, though, that the memories of my dad will only grow stronger – that’s what’s keeping me going.

No comments:

Post a Comment