smile

Hey Paul,

Its me again. There are days i want to sit in a dark room and cry all day by myself. The slits in blinds that drape the windows pool sunlight across the room, revealing the clouds of dust in the air. I should clean this house, wash the dishes that stack up in the sink. There are times that i cant believe this is my life.

The joy of my son is absolute. He is the most perfect boy i have ever seen. He has four teeth on the bottom, and is now working on two on top. He is very proud of them, and shows them off often.

The self hate i have inside reflects years of torment in the mirror. There are so many times i have wished i was more than i am. Wasting away at the seams. I want to be the father bug deserves, the husband my wife deserves. I see myself, in the same shirt i wore yesterday- the growing scraggle of beard, the growing flank of hair. the smile. As i kid i would stand and smile at myself in the mirror, sometimes i catch myself still doing it. There are days i want to run away. disappear. What kind of man thinks these thoughts?

I want to anonymous, a ridiculous thought as i am as anonymous as there is. I don't socialize, I dont have many friends. I have things i want to say, but i am afraid to write them. it feels like i am opening an impossible door. Why is it so hard to have this conversation with myself?

I am so insecure. I want to be a good man. I want confidence. In highschool i was popular, good looking. I look back now and wonder where it went. I want to be who my son thinks i am. I feel like i am rambling, yet i keep typing whatever falls out of my fingers. I hope my next post is more coherent.

Paul, you would be proud to know that i am teaching my son how to play music. I take out my guitar and let him pull on the strings as i change chords. its wonderful. He makes me so happy. I feel like i am going to cry, i am not sure what is wrong with me. I hope he doesnt turn out like me.