November 11, 2012 by August Rain

there are nights

and days, still

when I cannot bear the truth of the damage, the gut-wrenching pain

that I caused and allowed to come to my sons.

I remember the night of the day that I found out that my second husband, the father of my three eldest sons, was having sex with that movie star with the long blonde hair and the large breasts. How I paced the hardwood floors of that tiny house with unfinished walls and screamed as I pinched the skin of pubescent sized breasts–feeling ugly and hated–I screamed that I hated myself. My face was twisted and caged by bone structure, skin, muscle and the natural, physical state of atoms and DNA held together by some insane force that made absolutely no sense to me–when every emotion within that cage was frantic for release of all energy into one big explosion of blood and guts, hair, fingernails, arteries, tendons, heart tissue, soul, passion—soul. soul. soul.

That anguish had a source and a perpetrator and even though it made me hate myself for not being pretty enough and good enough—for not being enough–I still had a person to blame.

But NOW–damn it–that person is just simply ME. It was me 7 years ago who left, who made my babies cry, who cut into the heart of Jake’s dad and who made him bleed so badly. The anguish and desolation I feel has no solace because I CAUSED it. And here I am living in this house without my sons–this is not their home and it never will be. They were scattered. Even writing this — seems self-indulgent. There are no good answers.ImageImage


5 thoughts on “untitled

    • August Rain says:

      thanks–I went through a major mid-life crisis of sorts when I was 42 – 45 or so and caused lots of pain to the people I loved the most. I’ve learned from it—but can’t change the consequences. I know now how important loyalty is—and how important a “home” is to children–no matter what their age.

      • Nafees says:

        yeah loyalty is so worthy thing so this is why cheap people dont have it. Home is home, parents love kids but most of time kids dont.

  1. Whit says:

    Can’t believe I’m just now getting caught up on your posts. But I’d like to remind you of the tremendous positive impact you have on your sons now and every day– partly because of the insight you’ve gained as a result of your own tumultuous journey, partly because you do so much to help them through their own struggles, and partly just because you’re you– you’re Mommy. You always will be. Furthermore, I know there are others you’ve affected. Others who really struggle sometimes to get through a day or a week because of that same “not enough” feeling you described above. Who rage at their bodies and minds in a feeble attempt to will them into submission. But who are comforted by knowing, at a soul-deep level, that you understand. They simply wouldn’t be the same without having met you, because for them, half the battle of finding the strength to carry on is knowing that there is at least one person with whom they can truly be themselves… and for whom that is enough.


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