I don't hate you.
I used to. I used to wish I'd open the paper and find that you'd overdosed or been killed. I held so much hate inside of me that I couldn't see anything else except the bad that you had done. I used to find myself up at 3am, breast feeding my son, thinking of how you were most likely partying, or taking care of another woman's children, and I felt rage inside of myself. I was so blinded by this rage that I couldn't do anything else except hate you. I wasn't mad for what WE weren't; I was mad for my son, and let me tell you, there is no feeling that can mirror a mother's rage when someone has wronged their child.
I don't know exactly when this stopped. I can't pinpoint a specific day or a certain event where I just stopped hating you. It was a mixture of events and days that blurred together out of exhaustion, that lead to me pitying you, and then to me forgiving you. People listen to my story and they think I'm crazy. After all, I left you, I CHOSE to end us, but you're the one who abandoned our son. You're the one who never tried to be a father. And one day, I just realized that I pity you. I got to see his first everything. I'm the one he cries for when he's hurt. I'm the one he cooed at 2 in the morning when he would wake up to eat. He runs to me when he falls down at the playground, he runs to me when I pick him up from daycare, and he screams to me that he loves me everyday. He sings to me and tells me I'm his best friend. I was at the hospital when he had surgery, and I taught him how to do pee pee standing up at the potty. You're missing all of it. And I pity you. You don't even understand how sweet he is, and how loving he is. He is the most caring person, and let's face it, he gets it from my side. From you he has the cutest button nose & big puppy eyes.
Then my pity shifted into forgiveness. I forgive the fact that I'm alone raising him. He has turned out to be what has saved my life. I was forced to grow up and to get my shit together. I was thrown into a world where I was up 20 hours out of 24, where I was ecstatic about a new sippy cup purchase, and where I HAD to make plans for my future. I forgive the fact that you're a shitty person, because it's made me a better mother. I love him twice as hard and I will give double that to make up for everywhere you lack. Everyday I wake up and look forward to bettering myself for him. I have something to look forward to because of him, and he has an entire life ahead of him with endless possibilities and limited disappointment because of your absence.
I feel sad for the inevitable feelings of sadness and doubt that he will have about himself because of you. My only goal is for him to have a happy life, and I don't think I could've given him that if you were part of it. You will never better yourself. You will never amount to anything. You'll will always be wishing and hoping for something better, and it will never come. You know this, and I know it's part of the reason you stay away.
I know you will most likely never read this, but on the off chance that you do, thank you for my son. He is the love of my life, and without you, there'd be no him. I pity you for not experiencing the greatness that is him, and I forgive you for the privilege of raising him alone. Please don't mistake this for excusing the fact that my son has no father. I don't forgive this, and I'm sure he won't either. That's something you have to live with and will have to face when your life comes near an end. I hope it tortures you the way it tortured me for years, and the way it will most likely eat away at him. You deserve it.