Confusion

   Yes, confusion.  (Note, this is likely to ramble much more than my normal entries as I try to work something out.)  As those of you who know me know, I'm not a very "touchy feely" person.  I don't often share my feelings about very much, and never in such a public way.  I wasn't always like this, but it is who I have become.  The only person who knows "the real me", is my wife.  I am always direct when I speak.  Though I have been noted recently as "The Yoda of Sarcasm."  When I say something, I mean it.  And I don't give my word unless I know I can keep it, otherwise its always "I will try."  While I have always been a self-confident person (some might call it self-centered), something has made me very insecure.  And this is not something I tend to deal with well.  Recently, my actions in the past have come up to shake me, all the way to my core.

   You may ask yourself what would/could he have done that had this kind of reaction in him?  Well, it wasn't exactly an action, but rather a lack of such.  Where do we start?  The beginning?  More recent events?  I'm not really sure.  Maybe I should first talk about what made me write this post?  Like I said, confusion.  Perhaps I should start at the beginning, it may help me figure out what to do.

   Back in high school, I had a long time girlfriend.  Three years, that doesn't seem so long now, but to a teenager, it can seem to be a lifetime.  I'll call her B., as I am not want to use people's names out here in a public forum.  B was beautiful, blonde hair, blue eyes, 5'11" and caught my interest the first time I met her.  We went to different high schools, had different interests and hung out with different types of people.  In short, nothing that would suggest, looking back at it decades past, there was anything to keep a relationship together.  (And, being a teenager, how in the hell could I even know what a relationship really was?)  She had the greatest effect on who I have become, as an individual, outside of the Army.  Our relationship was off, an on, several times over the years.  I always went back to her, or her back to me.  We would get angry at each other over stupid stuff, but important to us as teenagers.  But, I was in love, my first time feeling that way for someone outside of my family.

   Then one night, it was definitely over between us.  I really don't know if it was us, or just me.  I do remember the night very clearly still to this day, some 20 years later.  Needless to say, it left an impression.  And changed me, but not for the good.  I didn't trust women for a while after that.  I went through a succession of women, girls really, for a time.  They were used and thrown away, something I am now ashamed to admit.  Especially having daughters.  But, that was who I had become.  I graduated high school and was waiting to go to Basic when I started dating my wife.  She was meant to be like the others, only around until I left for basic.  She had the same basic idea for me, just to be around to pass the Summer.  She was/is in very many ways, the opposite of B.  She is beautiful  as well, brown hair and eyes, 5'2" and she also caught my attention from the first time I met her.  But, where B and myself grew apart, the wife and I grew closer.  (I know, I can hear you saying "Duh!  You got married and still are.")   She is the second greatest individual influence in who I am.  No, she is THE influence.  She taught me to trust again.   But, while a nice story and all, what the hell does this have to do with the title of this post?  Please bear with me a few sentences more, or maybe paragraphs, I'm not sure at this time.  Like I said, I’m kind of confused and trying to work it out.

   Anyways, back to B.  After that final night, and after I returned home for Christmas Exodus from AIT, she came to my house.  And she had a baby with her.  His name was/is Krikit, and I was/am the father.  Needless to say, at the time, I did not believe her.  I still did not trust her, nor did I like to be around her.  Her husband, and Air Force guy IIRC, I’m not really sure, nor did I care at the time, was there with her.  She placed him in my arms, and I still couldn’t believe.  I handed him back to her and they left.    I didn’t hear anything more, so I decided that I must have been right.

   Flash forward 13 years.  I am in SEAR school for the Army.  While in the class, you are not allowed any contact with the outside world.  So at the end of the course, the first thing I did was call home.  (Well, not exactly the first thing.  I slept for the first time in 6 days.)  And the wife tells me that B had called.  And that I had a son.  I asked her if she was sure and she told me that she saw a picture of him and he looked exactly like me.  I couldn’t believe it.  I was so sure I was right all of those years ago, and here I was confronted with the opposite being true.  I flashed back to that day when I saw him, and thought how stupid could I have been. 

   I went home after the class and the wife showed me the picture of him.  I was speechless.  (Yes, I know.  A surprising concept to be sure.)  It was like looking at a picture of myself at that age.  How could I have been so wrong?  Was it because of my feelings towards B that caused me to be that way?  Am I worthy to be a part of this kid’s life?

  I don’t remember if it was right away, or sometime after, that I called him.  I was nervous, scarred and anxious all at the same time.  More so than at any point in my life, I was unsure about myself.  I know I didn’t talk much, I normally don’t. He didn’t either from what I remember.  I apologized I don’t know how many times, but it must have been a lot.  And looking back on it, what good was apologizing really?  It’s just words.  Sometime after the call, I don’t know when, or how long, I figured that I didn’t deserve to be a part of his life.  I didn’t talk about this with anyone.  I really should have, since looking back on it, it wasn’t my decision to make, but his.  If he wanted me to be part of his life, or at least attempt it, I should have lived up to his faith in me.  Instead, I took a coward’s way out.  I decided, on my own, not to renew contact.  But, I kept coming back to, “You need to call him.”  And I would justify not doing it by telling myself it has been too long.  And the longer it got, the easier it became to convince myself.

   I am really such an ass.  It would have taken only a little bit of effort on my part.  Yet, I was too afraid to do it.  Me.  I have stared down people twice my size and not even be nervous until afterwards.  I have jumped into fights without a second thought, gone to combat zones and comforted my Soldiers because they were afraid.  Been in mortar and rocket attacks and not worried about getting hit.  I do not get afraid of things.  Yet, I was afraid of a kid.  Not afraid in a physical sense, but of not being accepted, knowing that I didn’t deserve acceptance.  I didn’t even give him the chance to decide on his own.  And yet, I made it, easier maybe, for him to build a justified anger for me.  I have regretted that decision, and thought about him on a regular basis, but could not bring myself to reinitiate contact.

   Then recently, he got into contact with the family again.  He is 23 now.  A full grown man.  He has been talking with the wife and my oldest daughter.  He has already accepted them, and truly accepted my daughter as a sister already. According to both of them, they are almost the same in most ways.  He is a master mechanic, a certified electrician, a guitar player in a band, an accomplished florist and working on a doctorate in practical physics.  He is so accomplished at 23, that my years of service are nothing in comparison, the crowning achievement of my life, other than my family.  With the wife, she has accepted him as part of the family, and I love her all the more for that.  (I am truly blessed to have that woman in my life.)  And he is trying to bring her into his life. 

   I talked with him this morning.  He has told me some about what has been going on with him.  I wanted to get on a plane right then and fly there.  Getting in contact wasn’t his choice, it was his doctor’s.  I am grateful for it none the less.  He was braver than I have been all this time.  Yes, he is very angry with me, and rightly so.  I can only hope that he doesn’t hate me.  After all, the only impression I have given him is that I don’t want him.  While, that is not the truth of it, actions speak louder than words.  And my actions have been very damning.  (As I am writing this, I have to keep myself from tearing up.  It is affecting me that much.)  Do I truly deserve to be a part of this kid’s, no, this man’s, life after all I have done?  How can I ask him not to shut me out, as I have done to him?  Forgiveness, and trust, must surely be out of the question because I am worthy of neither one.  He gave me a chance all those years ago to try and start.  I fucked it up, plain and simple.  He is giving me another chance now.  I can not allow this one to pass.  I must take action, even though that action terrifies me.  I am so terrified of his rejection, and of my screwing this up again, that opening myself up like this, in a public way, is tame in comparison.

   Basically, I am asking my family, even though some of you are not related by blood, you are family to me, for help.   I know what I must do.  I need the strength to do it.  I know I must endure his anger until he is able to accept me.  I need the courage to do so.  I know I should embrace him into the family.  He has taken the first step, the rest fall to me, but I need all of you to help me along this path.  It will be a difficult one, I suspect.  No, I know it will be, I have done too much wrong for it to be otherwise.  Will you help me walk the path?