Did I or Didn't I?

I'm sure that my lack of post yesterday about whether or not I met with the sperm donor had you wondering what I had done. And whether he had kidnapped me and taken me for parts unknown.

So here is my final answer.

I did.......not go.

A part of me wanted to, and the other part of me didn't. So I probably took the easy way out. But after much thought and much debate, this is what I did instead.

I sent him a message on facebook. Which, I was kinda impressed with so here it is.

To say I was surprised when I logged into Facebook 2 days ago and say that I had a message from you, shock was an understatement. Then disbelief as I read the message. Then a variety of other emotions, none of which will probably thrill you.

I'm sorry that this is going to be harsh. But you need to hear it. And I need to say it.

Your kidding me right? I haven't heard from you in almost a year and you suddenly send me a message and want me to drop everything and call you up and come see you? Have you lost your mind?

Part of me wanted to see you. Part of me had hoped that when you first contacted me on facebook over a year ago that you had changed, that you honestly wanted to be a part of my life. Then the messages stopped. And not another word was heard from you. You skipped out on my birthday. On Thanksgiving. On Christmas. On New Years. On Valentine's Day. On Easter. And then now, when things are good for you, when you are in the same city, suddenly you can find the time to drop a note.

Me not being a part of your life has been your choice. It's always been your choice. The type of relationship, however, that is my choice, you lost that privilege when you walked out. I had hoped when you contacted me over a year ago that you had honestly changed. I had hoped that you honestly wanted some sort of relationship with me. I had hoped that you would prove me wrong about your motives and your intentions. Instead, you ended up proving me right. You ended up proving that someone, something, or someplace was always better and more important. You did it to me as a child with Samantha and Karla. They were always so much better than me. I got good grades, and they didn't and you were proud of there sucky attempt. My grades could have been better. I never measured up in your eyes. Never. And mom always warned you that it was going to come back and bite you on the ass. Guess what?

I don't feel anything for you. Other than maybe pity. You aren't my father, even though my birth certificate says otherwise. You were never a father. You were just simply cruel. And thankfully I had enough people that loved me that your lack of love never concerned me, or screwed up my life as an adult. I saw through you and the way you treated me. You thought I cared, and amazingly so, I have never cared about what you thought of me. I learned early that your opinion wasn't worth much and whose opinions mattered.

You don't have a relationship with me because of your doing. Because of your choices. Not because of mine. Even when I didn't want to start something up, I responded to those messages. I had to hear you try to blame someone else for your marriage to my mother falling apart. It was just as much your fault as mom's. No one is ever completely blameless in any situation. No one. Not even you. So after all the bashing of my mother, I still talked to you. I still put forth an effort to meet you halfway. I figured that there were a lot of conversations that we needed to have that were going to be painful and uncomfortable. But I had hoped that we could get past them and that you could be a part of my life. That you would make the effort to be part of my life.

Granted I didn't send you more messages either when I didn't get a response. But if it was really something you wanted so badly, why quit the effort all together? I was busy. Going to school. Working. Taking care of my family. Losing family. Yes, it's no excuse on my part, but I wasn't the one who wanted to reconcile with you. You started it, I wanted to see if you were serious. Or if you were just going to disappear again. For the first time in my life, I was very hopeful and thrilled at the prospect of being proven wrong. Instead I got the results I expected.

So when I saw that message on Monday I debated for hours about what to do. I sent a text message to myself with your phone number in it. I tried to imagine what would happen if I called. What did I say? What did I do? How would it all play out?

Then I talked to John about it over dinner. And suddenly it became abundantly clear. Why should I make calling, and seeing you a priority, when I was and am just an option in your life?

An Option. Not a necessity. Not a priority. Just when it's convenient. Optional.

I'm not the same person I was when I was a kid. Your departure from my life changed things. Mom went to work, and I went to school and came home and helped clean and cooked dinner and went grocery shopping and became an adult. I found out how incredibly strong I was and am. I found out that there wasn't anything that I couldn't do, if I just wanted it bad enough. I found out that your presence or lack there of was a relief. I no longer had to hide and sneak around and be someone else to avoid the inadequate and why can't you be more like Samantha. I got to be me, and I got the appreciation and respect that I needed.

Then Eddie came along. His arrival as mom's new husband was hard to take. He was an active participant in my life. He went to band concerts, football games, and school assemblies. He told me how proud of the B I got in Chemistry. He told me how proud he was of the dinner I cooked, of the help I offered. He appreciated me. Simply because I was his child. Step or not. It didn't matter. They got married and I became his.

And when he had the heart attack and we very nearly could have lost him. I realized how lost without him I would be. Granted, he was late to the party, but realistically he is the only father I have ever had. And you know what. At 31 years old, he is still proud of me. He was proud that I went back to college full time. When I doubted myself he told me how proud he was that I even tried. When his great Uncle Jack died, he was proud of the cards and things that I did for Nita. When they came and had dinner with us and I so totally screwed up dinner. He was thrilled that he didn't have to cook. But he was proud of me, and he didn't tell me that So and so or such and such was better.

The relationship or lack of that we have had since I graduated has been your choice. The ball has always been in your court. It's always been up to you. I put forth the effort for 11 years. When I was 16 and you walked out on my mother and I with a woman you had been seeing behind her back, I quit. When I got married and Candy through her little fit over the invitations that was the coffin sealing the deal. Instead of backing me up, your "child". You took your new wife's side. You have made your choices, and your bed. It's not my fault that suddenly you don't like the bed and want to change things.

If you want to have a relationship with me. I'm willing. But it's not going to be on your terms. It's going to be on my terms. And it can't be when it's convenient. I can't and I won't be your dirty little secret to your wife. It's either all out in the open or it's nothing at all. And it's either all or nothing. Not when you feel like it, or when your in town.

The ball is in your court. It's your choice whether you throw it back or not. It's always been your choice. What happens after this is up to you.