Confessions

Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It has been six weeks since my last Blog.

It has been nearly six weeks since I posted my last blog. Though technically I am not classifying this as a "Blog" in my "Category". I am going to choose the category "Writing and Poetry". I don't intend for this to become a short story, but my hope is that this will transcend blog-hood and become something more. I intend to start using my "Blog" as a writing tool to kick start a change in my writing habits.

After all, I am a Writer.

Today is Saturday, it has been 2 weeks since my boys boarded a plane by themselves to fly down to Phoenix. 5 weeks and 2 days left. I spoke with them yesterday again, they are doing well, having fun. They called to tell me about their new Pokemon cards, Tristan said that some of the cards are copies of cards he has up here.

2 weeks ago I was at the airport nearly 2 hours in advance, my friend Russ went with me to support me as he knows how hard things like this can be on me. It went very smoothly, both Russ and I were given access to the Gate as 'escorts'. The boys were the first on the plane, it happened so suddenly, I was on the phone with Nicole telling her that boarding was about to start when suddenly it started and the boys were almost gone! They each stopped before they got to the hall leading to the plane and they ran to give me one final hug and kiss goodbye, they told me they loved me and that they would miss me.

Language is such a powerful thing, it wasn't all that long ago that my kids could barely converse with me, let alone each other. But now all they do is yap it up in the back seat, Jadon likes to exaggerate stories while Tristan likes to be a know-it-all. I constantly hear them talking and arguing and once they really butt heads its "Daddy! Tell Tristan/Jadon that Im right and hes wrong" lol.

No, seriously, Language is awesome. Telling someone you love them is nice, but hearing it can be amazing. My mom, my grandparents, other family, my girlfriend and my ex-wife have all told me that they love me. It feels really good! Absolutely nothing compares to the very first time one of your children tells you they love you.

Like I said, today is Saturday. I was intending on going camping for the weekend with my Mom and Stepdad, Russ and his family and his parents. Yesterday I found out that I would have to work today for a few hours. Kind of messed with my plans for the weekend.

I still could have gone camping, though I wouldn't have gotten out there until 6 or 7 at night more than likely. Then I would be home 24 hours later, more of a hassle than anything at that point. Work was almost nice though, provided me with a good excuse to stay home alone for the weekend.

I love camping, but some part of me really just wanted to kick my feat up at home, alone. Do some thinking. I go into a kind of emotional funk when the kids are gone. I feel like I am doing better than last summer, way better. So perhaps people are telling me the truth when they say it gets easier.

First I had an idea for a game I wanted to create, but Im not a programmer. Then I had an idea for a website I wanted to make, but Im not a web designer. I could be either, I have studied both in school and I was even working towards a degree for web development. But as interesting as those things sound to me (and they really do), thats not who I want to be. Ive struggled with my identity and my path for a long time now, since High School.

The reason for said struggle is that my two main interests, very early on, got set aside as they did not seem like great career paths to me. Those two main interests are Writing and History. And at this point in my life I am so ridiculously tired of wasting half my life on things that are not interesting, things I dont want to be doing, that I think its finally time to set my sights on something I am begining to feel that I was meant to do.

I called myself a writer near the beginning of this "blog". How dare I call myself that, I haven't written more than a plot layout since I was in High School. Its probably been twelve years since I wrote my last short story. Most of my time writing is spent on blogs or similar. I am a writer at heart though and its time for me to prove it, to myself esspecially. I have skirted around the issue long enough, I have put it aside again and again. History is my other main interest and I have been studying history independantly more and more as time goes on. Though I read as much historical fiction as I read genuine history...

Its time for me to start writing my ass off, I just need to do it. I need to stop wasting my life, I need to stop working jobs that dont interest me. Ofcourse, Im going to keep my dayjob, I dont intend on "hitting it big" writing, I would have a better chance of winning the lottery. But when people say "what do you do?" I can say, "I write, Im a writer" and they will go "Oh? anything I may have read" and I will say "Probably not, unless you've hacked into my computer", they they will say "Oh" and then I will ask "have you hacked into my computer?" and they will look at me with a bewildered look on their face while they retort "uh, No" at which point in time I will let out a deep breath and say "Oh whew, you had me worried for a second" then I will walk off in the opposite direction. Sure, working in customer service or on a manufacturing floor, or whatever piece of shit job I happen to be doing, might be how I pay the bills. That does not define WHO I am.

Its time for me to stop letting the illusions in my life beat me down. Time to stop worrying about the mundane and start being the person I was meant to be, a person both myself and my children can be proud of.

I am a Writer.
I am a Father.
I am Ready...