When I was on my way back to Athens two weeks ago, my main ambition as I waited in departures was to find some nice books to take back with me. Given that The Boy had got me the best Marian Keyes book EVER on his visit to Athens, imagine my delight to see an amazing 3.99 offer on some of her books in W H Smiths. I selected a title, bought it and trotted off to board the plan.
I know wish I had not bought this book in particular, or even started to read it. It's amazing what things can be dredged up out of your mind without even a moments warning. This book was entitled Watermelon, and starts with Claire, a mum of one day old gorgeous baby girl, being left in the hospital by her scumbag husband, who has been having an affair. Glorious fiction, and with words and stories that apparently will 'have you laughing out loud' or 'not being able to put it down', as some reviewers tell us on some websites. This story for me, is too close to home. And now, I have to struggle along for the next few weeks, thinking about stuff that has been tucked away behind memories of Me and The Boy for a nice long while, simply minding its own business and not doing anyone any harm until now.
I often wonder if these men, who decide to leave their wives and children, ever wonder about how it affects the children in question. It's all too raw and painful, everyone can see how the wife is feeling, but by the time any type of reaction on the child becomes obvious, Daddy's long gone. I realise that this is a massive general sweeping statement, there are may fathers who still see their children, and don't scarper off to America and abandon all thought of child payments.
When I was small, I enjoyed the memories of all the things me and my Dad had done. When we went to the Euro Tunnel exposition, and he bought me a rubber, or when we went for walks in the forest. One day when was on my way home from school, and I was talking to my Grandparents about memories of me and Daddy time, only to find that I had made all these memories up in my head, they had either not happened or had happened with other family members. I couldn't believe it, I had been so desperate to have something, anything to hold on to as a memory. Turns out, the only ones I had were all pretty much the same, He arrived, He shouted, we cried.
Does he realise that I have trust issues? That he stamped all these issues of trust and rejection all over me when he choose someone else over us? That I have to be aware that something so simple as buying a book, can magically bring everything up, and make me go a bit weird. It's toxic if I'm in a relationship. Which I am.
I am not going to let anything like this get in the way, it's just sometimes, its hard. It's hard to let go of everything, but at the end of the day, the only person who can set you free from this type of bullshit, is yourself, which is the hardest part of all. You can have everyone around you supporting you, but you have to be the one to say No, I'm worth more than this. I'm trying, it's not easy, it never was and never will be, but I'm there.
I'm Ally....and I have a Scumbag Dad. It's nice to meet you.