Funerals of the people we used to be

 

I grieved you long ago—so many times.

There were moments I thought that was the last.

But life is messy. Stories get tangled. Roots run deep.

So I let things be. Life goes on.

But yesterday was enough.

I refuse to keep being used, abused, and made to pay for sins you claimed to forgive. You lied about trying. You lied about peace.

And when you laid out your “conditions” for letting me live in the house I also paid for, with furniture and appliances I bought (okay, except the oven, air fryer, microwave—congrats),

I laughed.

It cemented how truly f*cked up you are. 

You dragged me far from my home and still made me feel like I owed you everything.

Well, isn’t this nice—it’s 2017 all over again.

Now you want to live like a single man with no responsibilities,

but still expect the kids to stay around—for what?

So you have people to boss around, feed your ego, serve your needs,

pretend you’re some noble “provider”?

You really think fatherhood is just about giving money? 

I was a bad person, sure. 

But no one should be defined by their 

worst mistakes in their worst chapters. 

After all, change is lived out in the everyday.

And who we are now can be who we didn't used to be.

And I can say, without shame:

I’m a good person. 

I work hard at my company.

I give my children love and attention. 

I provide for some of their needs and wants. 

I give my time to do what needs to be done 

even when it is hard.

But you?

The worst part about you is you don't even know.

And you don’t want to change.

If you ask me, I will say you are a blackhole.. 

wallowing in self-pity, drowning in self-entitlement.

No one can fill the void in you.

I no longer want to be the reason for everything you do.

I no longer want to be blamed for the choices you made

long after. 

You expect me to be accountable for actions that were mine,

and you still expect me to be accountable for yours.

You only remember everyone else's sins.

You only remember your pain.

You never remember how you caused it.

You only remember the leaving.

Never the staying.

Never the trying.

Never the effort.

Never the grace.

You never listen.

You never see.

You make promises and break them just as fast.

You speak words you barely understand.

You manipulate, belittle, bully.

You reject betrayal, but betray others without blinking.

So really—good for me.

Because months ago, 

when you again said we were partners,

when you again said I’d always have a home,

when you again said you’d take care of me when I’m old

I knew then there was nothing to look forward to.

After all, you showed me who you are every day:

An ego so inflated, it blocks out everything else.

You can’t even admit that everything you do

is for yourself.

The people around you?

They’re only relevant when they’re useful.

They only exist in your world when it fits your mood.

You work hard and pretend it is for 

others, but it's not.

You just can't admit it.

You’re not a father. You’re not a partner.

You’re a user.

And now that you’ve announced to everyone what I am to you,

how little I matter,

did you think I’d break?

Did you think I’d cry when you made sure

I knew I was "not enough"?

Probably.

But those tears weren't for you.

They were for all the people 

I chose not to become 

with the choices I decided not to take. 

I know who you are now.

I just kept pretending I didn’t—for the kids. For peace.

But you—the real you now?

You are not someone I will grieve.