oddities & honesty

Ahhhh... so much rumor. Much of the shit -about us, I mean,-being tossed around our town has rolled off me like sweat off a racehorse. My skin has thickened with age & experience. A few choice comments have stuck with me though, I will admit that fact. They sit, down low in my gut, and re surge during my lowest, darkest moments. The words play over & over in my head while I try to fall asleep at night. They pop into my head while I'm alone, driving in my truck or, like in the last few days, sanding and re-staining my decks and lawn furniture out in the hot sun. Alone is hard. I avoid it, but I find myself avoiding interaction at the same time. It's a constant inner battle.
My favorite hurtful-and devoid of any merit whatsoever- comment is the one the evil DCYF attorney (let's just call her Back Fat, since we're being all damaged and judge-y)made. The "He was just a fun project" vomit. Is it hurtful because its B.S.? Hurtful because I'm wondering if she may be partially right? Hurtful because her panty lines were so lumpy and dreadful? Wait.. it couldn't be that, could it? Anyway... That observation rolls around in my mind often, as I go about my day. That's a subject to explore with Dear John, I suppose. He's the king of, "Let's explore that." I need to open up to him more than I have been anyways. I totally keep the guy at arms length. I squirm uncomfortably in the chair and attempt to change the subject, over and over, while he spends the entire hour struggling to turn me back. He probably drinks very heavily after our sessions. I know I do! want to!
Some days, I wish I missed him less.
Other days, I wish I missed him so much more.
Some days, I feel so angry and resentful, and filled with tons of regret.
Other days, I feel so sad and overcome by guilt.. and filled with tons of regret.
Then there are those days I feel like a monster.
Then there are days I feel like HE is a monster.
But, I'm still just going to call him Jackson, since he's still my son.
For now.
Al