This is not the path I wanted for my life. It is the path I choose.
For example, I don’t have any children.
I’m not going to get into semantics but just to maintain full-disclosure: I haven’t seen my daughter since she was five. She is twenty-two now (but I’ve talked about that elsewhere and I’m not going to rehash the story here).
Clearly, this was never my plan – at least not my stated plan. Apparently, the official plan was a top-secret plan my sub-conscious decided I was not cleared to see. As such, I kept it from myself. This is only one of the many problems of living fractured – the left hand literally doesn’t know what the right hand is doing. Even though they are both my hands.
The official super-secret plan only recently came to light and it clearly outlines the steps necessary to sabotage my life. It clearly explains – among other things – why I have no children. In hindsight it reinforces my belief I’m clearly not as smart as I sometimes pretend to be.
Saying the timing was never right to have children is overly simplistic.
First of all, I chose relationships where children are not an option. I choose older women. I choose women with older children who like the idea of having more children but not the reality of having children with me. And, of course, I chose women who clearly don’t want children.
Just to be clear, this has nothing to do with the women. I have excellent taste in women.
Secondly, I am not time sensitive and as such only become aware of time when it becomes short.
And of course, as a result of my personality type I’m inherently a risk taker when it comes to my career and relationships resulting in personal, financial and work dramas.
Now, this is a very blunt and clear list of the behaviors and being as wordy as I am I could wax poetically about the choices that add up to being forty-four and without the gift of children. However, I’m not going to couch any of this in poetry.
If I want children I can make other choices and address these issues. That – at least at the moment – is not what this is about.
However, as I am in a bit of reflective mood I have been spending time tending my own garden and have unearthed the main taproot of the problem. Here is the secret: on an emotional level, at the root of who I am as an emotional, feeling human being I don’t think I deserve to have children. I feel there is something fundamentally flawed with me and as such, and against my own understanding or self-interest, I make decisions that negate the possibility of having something I claim to want in my life.
In other words, I’ve been waging a covert war on my own life. Honestly, looking at it now I wouldn’t want to have children with me either and under the no prisoners terms of my little personal war there is always collateral damage and innocent victims.
This war is easy to wage if you are living a fractured life. Sabotaging relationships, abandoning friendships, isolating and being an all around arrogant prick with some selfish immature tendencies. My war has hurt some good people and I’m truly sorry.
Yep, I’m a catch.
Which is the irony of being fractured. I am not always like that. I can be generous, supportive, understanding, loving and creative. I have some wonderful qualities too. It just happens the face I often choose to show those closest to me so they don’t get any closer is not always True.
It is cover.
Among the many results of this war is I have no children.
As such, I’ve brought the parties to the table (me, myself and I) and am learning to make peace.
Not with the past or with others but with myself.
It is agonizing because I know better than anyone that I did it to myself. It is agonizing because if someone else was responsible for my pain I would pack my shit and move. I would probably loathe them. Maybe even file assault and battery charges. Change my phone number. Uncircle, unfriend and unfollow them. Block them for putting abusive, disgusting and abusive images in my stream.
I would move on with my life. Move on with my dreams. Move on with my vision.
The only problem, as I said, is I did this to myself and setting aside the metaphysical implications of leaving yourself, I am unsure what I should actually do now.
That is the irony of war – there really are no winners and when peace does come it is often an uneasy peace.