If you were before me

and asked why I didn't

accept your father, why I

couldn't take him back;

I would look you in the

eyes and tell you I learned

my lesson the first time,

that he and I were never

right. I wanted to free us

both so we could find that

person in someone else.

I didn't want to fight or

to hear him scream “ Why

can't you be the one for me?!

Why can't you transform your

self into what I want?!”

I didn't want us to continue to

hurt one another. And I knew

I couldn't change to something

other than what I am.

He could never accept me for

what and who I am.

Because of this had I tried

again with him the ending

would have been the same.

Your father never knew me,

not really, not truly.

He just saw what he wanted

to see and took me for granted.

Inside I was nothing he wanted

and I'm sure he somehow knew it.

He only tried to return to me out

of a place of weakness, a fear of

being alone and not out of choice.

If it had been out of choice there

may have been no bitterness and

struggle. But he tried to come to me 

because he knew of no other place to go.

There is nothing else to say.

I had to turn him away.