I knew all the outcomes. I could be wrong and regret everything, but I could also be right and fix our problems. I wanted to take that chance.
So I did.
He's good with words, but he didn't get me this time.
I discussed everything I wanted to discuss and I told him sorry.
I know all of this doesn't even make sense. Some of you might think I'm an ungrateful person.
"At least I have a dad" or know him.
Maybe.
But my father broke my heart in that one conversation. The words that spewed out of his mouth gave me everything I had to know to confirm my decision. When someone admits to you that he manipulates you, you don't really want to get back to that.
All the lies.
The lies were enough to break my heart into shambles.
It had turned my life upside down. All these years I thought he truly put the most work for me, but that was the image he was trying to portray. The people that I grew up having disdain for were actually the ones that truly care about me.
The thing is about heartbreak is that it varies. Perhaps there is no measure of heartbreak.
What is true heartbreak? I'm not quite sure, but truly, I've felt it. I remember my body
sore, my head hurt, my stomach upset; my being ached at the loss.
What did I do? What could I do? I was alone. This was not something I wanted to talk about.
I took it one day at a time, diverted my mind, hoped for the best, started to believe in the better.
Eventually, I became better.