Dedicated to Willow


Cannot be…

What…is my purpose in life?

It's a question many people ask themselves over the courses of their lives, I am certain. But it…seems to have more meaning, more relevance to me.

After living my life, after doing what I have done.

What is my purpose in life?

I seem to be unable to do those things that I wish to, that matter most to me. And if I cannot do those…then not only am I a failure, but I have no way in the world.

A doctor cannot be a doctor, if he kills all his patients, no matter his good intentions. An artist cannot be an artist if he does not create something that is pleasing to the eye or provokes thought. A singer cannot be a singer if he cannot hold a tune.

A father cannot be a father if he cannot protect his child.

So what am I, and what shall I do now?

I cannot blind myself to the truth, keep telling myself that it was not my fault, that there was nothing I could have done. It was my responsibility to raise and protect him, to ensure his life was a long and happy one, and even when he was beyond the age at which he no longer needed my help…to stand back, let him make his own way. But always to be there to catch him when he fell, to nurse him back to health when he was ill.

But…he never got to that point. I no longer need to be a safety net for him, now or ever again.

A pet owner cannot be called an owner, if her pets die prematurely every time she owns one.

A father cannot be a father if he cannot save his son.

So what am I to do now? What am I now?

I have lost my title, that I have desired most in these past few years, and I don't think I shall ever regain it. I don't know if I would want to. If I did…that means that I could just fail again, that I could lose something else that's precious to me.

Too much. Too much.

A father cannot be a father if he cannot hold his son close and tell him that he loves him.

How do I go from this day to the next? How do I keep believing, how do I continue to see the light of the world if all I bring to it is darkness and failure. It is as though there is some black cloud wrapped about me, and it is now all I can see, and all I touch becomes infected with it. Turns dark and dies.

Every time something new and wondrous, something valuable to me comes into my life, I destroy it.

Ignorance is not an excuse. I should know how to do these things, and if I do not learn, as I don't seem to be doing, what is the point in my existence? Why do I even continue to try?

I should've given up those that I cared for long ago, to those who are capable of caring for them. I should stop telling myself that, next time, I can do it right, do it better. I should stop letting myself create a 'next time' situation.

I got lucky every time before. But my luck has finally run out, and now, I pay for my mistakes.

A father cannot be a father if he has no child.

How should I go on now? And how should I remember him? I have one image only, a tiny thing that is difficult to see. It is made by a strangers hands and I cannot feel the love and warmth I should as I look into it, knowing it was made by some foreign body.

I should have done it myself and I should have done it more, not put it off, waiting for the right moment, believing that it wouldn't matter because…he would be around for much longer for me to do it in. I should have sat down at every happy moment shared with him and taken that image, stored that memory and ingrained it so deep that I should never forget if the tiniest of details. The way a hair stuck out of place here or there. The way he cried. His little peculiarities that made me adore him so. The way he ran, to have fun or just to greet me.

Everything.

I wish I had captured every moment, not put it off, believing there was more time. I should not have taken anything for granted.

I remember now that I should've looked forward to seeing him every time I did. No matter how often. Things like that should not be taken for granted. I only remember now that I looked forwards to seeing him most when I had not seen him for some time…and that only makes it worse.

Knowing that this time, I had wanted to see him so much, was so desperate to see him again. I grew complacent…and now I suffer for it more.

I should've learnt by now.

A father cannot be a father if he has no child.