Triggers.

  This weekend, I spent with Tom and Kelley.  It warms my heart to see those 2 together.  My late nights here, I've spent watching holocaust documentaries...  why?  Why not?  To be educated.  To know a thing or two.  To gain a little strength by seeing an entire race or populas, raise from the ashes and do something to better themselves.

  I've done little to better myself.  Though there have been changes, I'm still stuck.  Still... the little things remind me and I find myself sitting in a puddle of tears.  I miss my children, but have no idea if I can be a dad again.  Make no mistake... I was a great dad before.  And the feeling of them being away, reinforces how much I love them.  Am I capable of contacting them?  I have nothing to prove to her.  I have nothing to prove to them.  I have to prove it to myself, one day...

  Watching a movie tonight, reminded me of everything and I lost what was going on in the movie, playing back the memories in my head.

  "Some where... over the rainbow...  skies are blue... and the dreams that you dare to dream, really do come true."

  I sang this to them, as much as she did.  It was such a routine that they would sing it back.  And when I heard the words... that's what I heard.  Alora and Kylie singing the sing along with daddy or mommy.  And tears began to fall from my face.  Trying to smile and hide them from Tom/Kelley, I smiled and laughed when a joke came about.  I couldn't tell you what it was, because I honestly wasn't paying attention...  but all I could hear, were the kids singing in my head.

  It's never gotten easier.  It's never faded, as I remember every memory.  With her.  With them.  It's just hurt more as time has gone on and the more distant the kids get.  I only realized recently, that my son doesn't know who his father is.  He doesn't remember me.  And I'm positive that at this point, she's got him calling someone else daddy to the point where he's Alora.  Confused on her biological dad, just as he will be.

  I don't remember doing anything worthy of this.  Anything deserving of this pain.  Anytime that I failed to love my children.  Anytime, I acted as if my time was more important than theirs.  ...  and I can't.

  My days were often spent playing, singing, teaching and coming up with ways to spend my time with them.  If it was playing in the snow, running under a sprinkler, going to a park, museum or fair... I was always there.  I never did anything at all to deserve this.  Not to her.  Not to them.

  Maybe the perception is different...  but I don't accept that.  Even today, everyone I talk to... knows that I was a very involved child.  They pass their children off to me (even for a few moments) and tell me that I musta been a dad.  I was.  And I don't know why that's gone.  I really wish I did.

  Memories are triggered, all the time.  Having a great memory, I can't forget... though sometimes I wish that I could.  It would do me some good to erase the memory of being as lucky as I always knew I was.  Being a loving fiance and father.  Maybe then, I could get on with my life.  Maybe then, I could meet a wowzer of a woman and fall in love again.  Maybe then, I could make my dreams happen.

  I stopped seeing my therapist.  It just didn't seem to be helping.  I found myself sometimes crying after sessions and it only made the nightmares come more.  And much like the lawyer, she denies the idea that Alora is my daughter.  Making it clear each time.  And that's not what I feel in my heart.  That's not what 6 years of raising her, taught me.  I don't bring her up much anymore, just so I don't have to explain...  but, I still feel no different.

  It's going to take time.  I know...  and it's the part I hate.  When memories fade into age.  And I hate that idea.  I'm ashamed of myself for thinking that way.  But, when your exhausted from the emotional pain and torture...  it seems like the only good thing to look forward to.

A contradiction...

  I'm by no means, perfect.  I've never claimed to be.  I've just taken the world in stride and tried to find out where I belong in all of the madness.

Over the past few months, I've changed.  Hell... the past few years has been a hell of an eye-awaking experience.  I've only learned time and time again, that the only person I can trust... is myself.  People I've put all of my faith, love and trust into has only proven over time that it's pointless.  I've put myself out there and worked to the bone, to make someone else happy.  And in the end, I'm alone.

This statement couldn't be more true about my old life... my ability to be a father or to love someone to the brink of insanity.  Love is crazy... it's true.  Loving friends is no different.

Everyone has their own agenda.  I stayed with Amanda for 5 months, last year.  Before moving in, she had attempted to have an affair with me, on her current boyfriend Mike.  It ruined our relationship, as somewhere deep down... it affected the way she treated me, after I declined to go through with an affair.  At first, it didn't seem to be apparent... but it wasn't long before her entire attitude changed.  And when I was asked to move out, it affected the relationship with other friends... at which I had no doubt that she would be spreading rumors and lies, keeping this big secret from them all.  She had her own agenda and when I didn't fit into it, I was discarded and lied about.  Seems women have that ability to create bullshit.

I start to question myself.  Do I exhibit some sort of vibe, that allows this continue to take place?  Because after having it done big time, by my ex...  it seemed to be happening everywhere.  Trisha, Candy, Amanda, Emerald.  All of them left when they didn't get what they wanted.  3 out of 4 of them, managed to make things more difficult... though I stayed morally right.  I didn't commit the same bullshit as when I was a kid.  I wasn't the other guy anymore.  I wasn't the secret.  And it took a long time for me to realize the gravity of all of it.

Tracy even.  Which I'm only reminded of, because of a dream I had of her recently.  Last year, she told me she loved me.  In a romantic sense, despite being with someone she doesn't really love.  It lasted no more than a weekend.  But, I still feel the scar it's created.

It will always boggle me.  I wonder if it'll ever change?