Fuck father’s day. In fact fuck all of those fake ass hallmark holidays, but especially fuck father’s day. Prior to the birth of my first child I was a completely different person. I was angry as a kid. I had a lot of hate. The birth of Brooklyn stole this from me and transformed all that hate into love, giving me an abundance of love. When I lost her and subsequently her mother decided to keep me out of here life, I was left with all of this love, love that expired with the discovery that her mom was in fact going to keep my daughter from me in spite of telling me something different and the death of the dream that was me being a father. While I love both of my children very much and wouldn’t change a thing given the chance except to be in their lives, but to have loved and lost is absolutely not better then to have never loved at all. If I never knew how much I loved them, I would never feel how much I miss them. Their absence wouldn’t leave me feeling empty and vacant. If I had never known their shine, their glow, then I wouldn’t notice that it was gone. But I do. And so while my children are the very best thing in my life, they are also the worst. It don’t even feel right writing that but it is what it is. The absence of my children from my life has caused me numerous problems but the number one thing it’s don’t to fuck me is it stole my hope and it holds my goodness hostage at the end of a gun. It’s made my life extremely dark and gloomy. Stealing my light from the end of my tunnel, causing me to wonder what’s the point? It would be one thing if I was dangerous to my kids but while I will admit not always being the best role model, I have never been a danger to my kids. Even the day that the sun went out I was at the homies house because it was safe there. We were there because I had realized that I was entirely to wasted and so we went to homeboys house to put her in a safer environment. Somewhere that I could sleep it off and Brooklyn would be looked after. And I really do believe that had I just been left alone to sleep, I would have been fine, waking up in the morning all hung over from the booze and the pills, but waking up none the less. I wouldn’t have died. But that’s not what happened and so I overdosed instead, putting my daughter in an unsafe environment by doing so, opening the door for those motherfuckers and her mom to declare my worth as a father and deciding it wasn’t much eliminated me from her life as if I’d never been there at all. That’s why I wasn’t trying to get Tighlar pregnant, but she got all sad and I’m a fucking moron and next thing you know, we are pregnant with Hayden. I found this out in jail from the guards. They told me cause they didn’t want some other inmate to tell me, Tighlar was in jail in the girls pod. We were codefendant’s and anyone can tell you that I wasn’t the one calling the shots. Tighlar was in trouble long before she ever met me. In fact I think she had just gotten out of rehab or something when we first met. By the time she was 5 months along we both had felony warrants for some stolen cars and were living at a trap house in Pueblo, at which point I saw the light and took us to Iowa to have the baby. Enter sweet little baby Hayden, beautiful just like her momma, born in Des Moines while we were wanted for some bullshit and so hiding out with my family in Iowa. I got to experience my family for 3 months before I was finally arrested at Tighlars mom’s house back in Colorado to in fact turn myself in I had struggled with actually doing it though and so her mom ratted me out. Last thing I saw as I was taken away in handcuffs was Tighlar breastfeeding my daughter. In jail I found out that I was actually being charged with the car that Tighlar and her little friends stole from Idaho Falls to get back to Colorado, a car that was stolen while I was locked up in Bonniville County jail and was recovered by the police while I was still in there. The cops were just lazy as fuck. I could have beat that case easy and the other one they had on me was so sloppy it never would have made it to a courtroom. It never did. No instead I just took the hit. Those cops and da’s even the lawyer I had as private council, the judge, they had a look about them that said it was me they wanted to hang. I’m the bad guy that needs to be taken off the streets. It was plain as day. And the last thing I’d seen was her breastfeeding my daughter, it seemed like she was more important to the whole equation then I was so I worked out a deal with the da so that I would plead guilty, they would have an open sentence on me and they would drop the charges against Tighlar because she was only guilty of falling in love with a piece of shit like me. They didn’t drop the charges but she got a year of unsupervised probation. I went to prison for 3 years. While in prison Tighlar did some dumb shit and so her mother Julie got emergency custody of Hayden until Tighlar could get her shit together, which she finally did. At which point I was out of prison and going to court with Tighlar for these, finally the judge allowed Julie to give Tighlar back Hayden but the judge issued shared joint custody of Hayden to Tighlar and I. He didn’t say here you go Tighlar, fuck Jason. Yet that’s what Tighlar heard and so one morning while I slept, Tighlar just up and left Colorado with my daughter to the greener pastures of Montana. I have tried to communicate with her so I can see my kid but Tighlar is apparently doing good in her life right now and so she can judge me and deem me unworthy of knowing my daughter and so even though I’ve told her I wanted to know my daughter and even after she’d agreed I wasn’t a danger to my daughter and I gave her my phone number, actually hoping to get hers in return but failing. Father’s day passes and my phone don’t ring. Not once. In fact I only had one person tell me happy father’s day, my homeboy who’s couch I overdosed on to start all this bullshit. So yeah, fuck father’s day.
Published by devilmonkey666
I'm a hot mess. A 41 year old child who still doesn't know what he wants to be when he grows up. Or even if he wants to grow up for that matter. People say I'm a writer. I'm not so sure. But it is therapeutic and helps me from going all the way left sometimes. View more posts