They don’t ask about you anymore not like they used to.
Maybe it’s because I am older now but the question never seems to come up even among new people in my life. Maybe it’s because I don’t ever talk about you.
This is, in fact, something I am completely comfortable with.
It’s cold of me more now that you have left this world; for me to think of you this way but let’s be honest with one another for once, I thought of you this way while you lived amongst us.
Now don’t get me wrong we had good times, I do have positive memories of you. Moments in my life where you were someone I looked up to and bragged about. Someone I wanted to show off.
The problem is that the bad memories outweigh the good by a lot. The things you took from me were far more precious than the things you gave me. The pain you caused was far more intense than the giggles you provided.
I have spent years avoiding talking about you and in a certain company you always come up, even now, and I always withdraw from the conversation as I have nothing nice to say. I don’t want to upset those around me so I keep my mouth shut.
I was told once to forgive you not for you but for me. “Holding on to so much hate will just with weighing you down” is what I was told but to be honest there is no weight on me not even a little. I know a lot of that is because you’re gone. You can’t hurt anyone ever again. Some of that is because you made hating you as “natural” as loving you.
They never ask about you.
As your kids grow up they may forget what you said, but they won’t forget how you made them feel
Kevin Heath
