Often times I sit and wonder. I wonder if a person who has been gone for many years can just decide that they want to go back to a place that was familiar, or to people who once were familiar? Or should they want to?
I left a bad situation(I will call it) over 21 years ago. I was speaking to someone yesterday about “home” and what it should mean to someone who has got one. How a person who has people and family in their lives that really care and want them around, and how they should be grateful. This comes from situations that some find themselves, with a want to be back in the life of someone whom you wish you could go to, but sadly, can’t. I came home thinking about this conversation I had with my friend. I was immediately saddened. What in the world? Was I talking to them or myself?
If I am truly honest with myself, I miss my younger life, the one before all the wrong things happened. I miss the family image, of the people I called family and how much I long for the “what if’s”. If I am honest though, that is not my personal reality. I won’t ever have that. I won’t have that nicely packaged beginning to the end story that some have. I won’t get to share my thoughts, my worries, my dreams, my stuff with that “Idealism” family. I have my immediate family now and that is where my attention and the efforts I make, go to. I feel sad for my children, for my dreams of having an extended family so that they could experience that. But you know, it is not my fault. I was the one who was mistreated. I was the one who was given no other choice.
Like many others, I struggle writing about this personal stuff. I am almost afraid of writing it because they might see it, hahaha. Isn’t that a kick in the pants? They removed me, I am afraid of them reading my writing, and all. That is ironic. I need to write to share my experiences with others, it is to help others not feel so alone or isolated. Others need to know that this happens to not just them but others. I think I can help others by sharing.
Now don’t get me wrong in that, I had all bad days living with my family. Because I did not. I do have fond memories at various stages in my life. But the hidden truth was the part f me that tried to survive back then, well it created happiness where it could find it. I was the only one who knew what was going on with me, until a certain age, adulthood. I told the person I believed would have my back thru thick and thin, but that was not happening. Not in my case. Perhaps this person had many things to deal with on their own. Maybe they themselves were fighting some of their own demons. I guess they could of even been prisoner to their own choices in life. I was just a mere battle, in their own war. I will never know, I guess.
If someday I can look back without great sorrow, I will, at last, be free. Free of the burden of the “what if’s”, at least I hope. 21 years is a long time. It is a hard life when you question everything from back then. It is hard to imagine how lives that were supposed to have you in the picture, have never even wanted to have you there.
I will focus on my immediate family and so should you if you are in the same “boat”. I implore you to look ahead and not behind you, in a way that affects your now and future.
Please don’t waste your love, your opportunities, your thoughts searching and wondering. Life has a way of giving back what you put forth into it. I know.
Thanks for reading. MwsR
More at a later date.
And I shall see you on this side of the rainbow.
Thank you for reading 🙂