We can’t go back. We can’t repair the past. We can’t right the wrongs of the people who feel as if they have been betrayed by us. Life is what it is and it continues with or without our involvement. These are the things that I am learning. That we all make mistakes, but from those mistakes we draw what we can so that we do not make them again.
For two days a hand I have promised to stay at his house, so that he can spend more time with his daughter, with me, so that we can work on where we go from here. If indeed we are going anywhere. He’s given his pound of flesh for our safety, perhaps even for our lives. The agonies that he has gone through I cannot even conceive. No man will ever love me the way he loves me, even though his ways are not what anyone would consider normal. The obsessive compulsive emotions we have for one another transcends the breach of civilized desire, and that can be a very dangerous thing, especially for someone in his position. We are a very dangerous weakness.
He has made me see that I cannot abandon the daughter I have for the daughter I have lost, a daughter that I think about often. Several times I have set off to see if I would be allowed to see her, but I always stop short before I reach the house, unable to make the full journey to the doorstep. Is it better to just step away and watch her from afar? Would I confuse her with my presence and make matters worse? These are the things I distress over, trying to make the best choice not for me, but for her.
There is pain in his eyes at the fact that I have born another man’s child, and yet, I cannot be sorry for it. I would make the same choices if I had it to do again, even knowing the ultimate outcome and the sorrow that would follow. Even if I cannot hold her in my arms, she will reside within my heart forever.
I hope that she inherits all of my best qualities. I hope I can find a way for her to not forget.
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