Sometimes I sit and think about the stories and the lessons that I will one day have to teach my son.
How to tie his shoes
Potty-training
Deciding with my wife which one of us will be the one to take him into the bathroom when we are out
And contemplating the moral issues of a young boy being in the women’s bathroom and wondering what side effects that it would have on him later…
However there is a major part of this equation that is still left to be solved
A wife
She is crucial to making the visions in my head of being that father and being her husband become true events in my history
The problem is
I don’t know if I still have faith in the legal papers binding together two human beings in an act of so called love.
Forgive me for being blunt…
But how exactly am I going to find a woman to be my wife, when I can’t stand the women, or girls, that I am surrounded with at this present moment.
I have had talks that just tear apart all of the crap that I have heard these girls doing to themselves
The amount of pregnancy scares caused by the one-time underage mixed drink influenced hours of “passion”
The fact that you can stare at a disheveled lodging with confusion because you haven’t the slightest inclination on the process of changing this into a place that welcomes all
Or Not having the thoughts sprint through your mind of anything regarding self-respect
Yet you want me to be the man you stands up and tells you how much he respects you.
You call that True Love…
I call that impossible.
Though deep inside I have witnessed the effects of a lasting bond between two beings in a brawl to stay united through the worst of times…
I have been forced to feel the atom bomb radiation that lingers in the air for years after the bond between man and wife is split just like the atom.
Words that seem like the vernacular of the time turn into loaded rifles against booming cannons strewn across the bloody plains as the Battle of Gettysburg.
“Tell me why!”
“Just answer the question!”
“Why don’t you talk to me?”
The sounds of parents to each other as their vocal cords bang together harder than they have ever heard before as the collective shouts of a collapsing couple fill their child’s ear in a fret
You still contest with me to say “I Love you”
But sweetheart…
I just don’t think it’s true…