Trust and Deceit (The Story of Me)

Last year was tough. I always thought that I wouldn't make it through. I was always saying that this was it, that I couldn't take it anymore. Each moment I said that though, I actually ended up making it through.

So much crap was going on last year. It seemed like everything was just falling apart; I was falling apart.

The thing is I don't even understand why all of a sudden everything just came right back at me; all the stuff I had been holding in and putting in the back of mind or trying to forget...I don't get why it didn't just stay there.

Everyone tells me to not blame myself for my father, Tony, leaving. They call him an asshole, a jerk. And I did, too, at least out loud. I don't think I ever admitted until last year that in my head...I made up excuses for him. It was like I knew he was a jerk, but I wanted for him so much not to be. And when he came back...I had faith in him at first. And then, I just...I realized he was the same. He was going to leave again. He was already starting not to call as much and when he did call I think half the time we talked was him telling me his excuses for not calling. I wanted so bad to holler and yell and scream...but not once did I actually do it. So, I stopped seeing him. I'd tell my mother to tell him that I didn't want to talk whenever he called and pretty soon I just had to tell her to tell him...that I didn't want him in my life anymore...but my sister...she kept seeing him. She had faith in him.

I remember the first time he came to visit after he found out I didn't want him in my life. For that memory alone...I hate him. Even as I write this right now...I'm crying...he didn't hurt me, nothing like that. But, he kept trying to talk to me...and I was ignoring him and I got into the car because me and my mom were going to go do something...But my mom was talking to Shelli. And I got into the car and I tried shutting the door, but it didn't work. He was so much stronger than me. He held it open with one of his hands. And he just stood there for a second talking...I can't even remember a word he said...I just wanted to get out of there. And then he bent down in-between me and the door. Said something, which I can't even remember now, that made me almost start to cry. And it wasn't a sad cry like someone telling you a heartfelt apology...it was like a when-will-this-moment-ever-end sort of cry. I can, however, remember the look on his face...in his eyes. It was angry, but at the same time something else, too...And then he slammed the door.

I don't know how to explain, but it scared me. The whole, entire way into town my mom tried to calm me down, get me to stop crying. And, I finally did, but I hate that memory. He was so much stronger than me; he had so much control.

And, he ended up leaving, to say the least. Last year, though, I still made up excuses for him, saying it was my fault he left the first time.

The truth is it never was my fault. It was his. You know the excuse he told me and my sister for leaving? He said that he was being a donkey! He didn't take responsibility of his actions...he didn't take the blame. And, I knew that...I knew he didn't leave just because he was being a donkey...So, I took the blame.

That one choice I made in that moment affected me so much. Last year when someone did something bad to me and someone else, I took the blame...I told that person sorry...I told them that what that person had done would never have happened if I hadn't started talking to them. And I think for the first time...ever...in my life...even after listening to my reasoning...someone told me that it wasn't my fault...that they would NOT accept my apology.

That person is still here for me. And I appreciate that person helping me. Even when they had a chance to leave, they didn't. That just proves to me more that...that not everyone leaves...that some people care enough to stay by your side. And, that person is one of the four people I trust and can always count on.