It is funny how I just wrote about perfection and then I turn around and I'm getting smacked in the face with the unexpected, the uncontrollable, and a definite lack of perfection in my life. And this is the shit I couldn't control even if I wanted to.
I am back on the mental roller coaster of sorts; blindfolded and going backwards while refusing to throw my hands in the air because this is just not fun at all. I cannot write in great details right now but I will say that it appears that something has happened to my father. So sans the details, which are gory, I can write about how I feel.
I would be lying if I said that I wasn't unsettled. I am. In a big way. My head is full of screaming chatter and not one bit of that chatter agrees with the next refrain of chatter. I have always been conflicted over him and this is no different. There are those who love him and proclaim his innocence. There are those who hate him and wish this to be true. And there are plenty more who are just terrified about the situation all together.
As for me, I want it to be true. I want to be free of him and never have his thoughts cross my mind again. When I think, I feel very little. A lump of shame I suppose, because this is my father and I should not wish these things on anyone. And then a single frame of my own torture is smashed into the back of my eyes and I feel an overwhelming helplessness and pain. It appears that he finally got a taste of what he inflicted for so many years and I am at an emotional loss.
If this is true then I am an orphan. In legal terms I would be the sole survivor.
In the singular.
I have watched my family fight its demons to the collective death.
I am the last one standing.
Did I win?
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