There is a perpetual war within my head between the part of me that aspires for better and the cancer of negativity which gestates nearby and in almost equal quantity. There are days when I feel joy, happiness, and contentment; other days I wish nothing more than to die screaming my grievances at the top of my lungs and just say “fuck it all” before blinking out of existence. I am – and have always been – adept at self-destruction. Sometimes, the only reason I think I’m still here is that I’m too damn stubborn and spiteful to die.
But now I have another reason to keep at it, and it’s a damn good one: my daughter.
For years, I’ve relied on spite, brute force and ignorance to get things done. “I’ll show those bastards” could have been my catchphrase, because nothing has ever motivated me more-so to succeed than to prove others wrong. To conquer and never yield. I can no longer allow this to be true. In June, I’m going to meet the most important person I’ll likely ever know, and it’s my responsibility to teach her to do better. I have been a spiteful, cruel man with a lot to prove. Now, I must adapt love and kindness, and above all else, patience. The last thing I want in this world is for my daughter to feel as hollow, miserable, and alone as I at many times in my life have. I can’t wait to meet her.
Towers of Rust 