June 8, 2010

Grasping At Straws and Empty Arms

Written June 1, 2010

Although years and years have passed, I almost started this blog with "dear silent friend" just as I did in my early years of high school. I guess it's fitting since these are the final pages in my composition book; that I'm also putting every remnant of childhood behind me and jumping into adulthood headfirst, eyes closed...but I forgot to plug my nose. 

I bought my first truck this week. I've been living on my own for two months now. I'm paying more bills than ever before, enjoying being a workaholic and all else that comes with newfound maturity. Notice dear readers, I don't say freedom. I guess I haven't been able to fully enjoy it yet, or haven't wanted to? I have to much to prove and so little time to prove it. In spite of all the responsibility of being an adult, or perhaps because of it, I still feel like a lost little girl. I want nothing more than to crawl into my daddy's lap and cry like I once did. Back when my biggest worries were my friends getting cell phones and Bridger liking Abby. A daddy hug made everything okay. But now? I can't crawl into daddy's arms and cry over being heartbroken. Because I broke my daddy's  heart when my impetuosity made a decision for me. I learned tonight that when he arrived home to my empty room he sat on the floor and cried for hours. It's not that I regret my decision perhaps my regret is for how I went about it, or maybe I just want to have my cake and eat it too. My regret is that I was not there when he cried in my empty room.  Maybe if we had cried in each others arms we would have had all the strength we needed to move forward. I'm grasping at straws...and empty arms.

Instead we are sugar coating it, being distant and acting like we aren't hurting. Like we don't miss being around each other. I miss his dumb jokes, when he would do that chicken neck thing that made me dizzy. I miss when my first boyfriend broke up with me; he handed me an ax and told me to take out my hurt on the logs we were splitting. I miss our early morning ski trip traditions.
"Any advice dad?"
"Don't die."
I miss the rare occasions when I would wake up early, creep downstairs and sit next to the fire with him as he read his Bible. There I would lay my head on his shoulder and we would talk about all that life had to offer. I wish I had woken up earlier more often...I even miss our discussions on horse training and never agreeing on how much contact was correct. I miss blue striped shirts, one finger waves and that smile that George Straight ain't got nothin' on. 

Truth be told that as hard as that wedding was from a Jeremy perspective, it was more gut wrenching when I tried to imagine walking up that long aisle alone. To have to give myself away. When Kaylin's dad stood up and performed the ceremony I didn't think my heart could hurt worse, but when he broke down crying I wasn't sure I would be okay. 

I miss you daddy. I miss your future schemes and memories. I still want you on my arm that fateful day when I finally walk up that aisle. 

But I don't think I'll ever be ready for you to give me away. I want to always be your only little girl.

Even when I ruin everything daddy, even then.

I'm sorry
I love you. 


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