Hugs in the Street

Went for a walk with my dad last night. It was umm nice. We talked about our day. We are able to have basic conversation. Talking about nothing real. I know that he's making an effort and I guess so am I. But is this what a father daughter relationship is supposed to look like. Cordial. On the surface. I tiptoe around him. Hold back. I have this major secret. And I just can't tell him.

I sit here and I think about all the damage caused. The psychological sorrow. The never ending baggage. One line rings in my head. Refuses to be forgotten. "If I don't hug my children, they'll get hugs in the streets." That line has ruined me. A defining moment. Life altering. 

How many poor decisions I've made. Is it coincidence that I've gotten myself involved in compromising situations. Always searching. Trapped in an illusion. Unattainable relationships. Unavailable hearts. Belonging elsewhere. Never to me. For me. 

So now I choose to be alone. Share my heart with no one. Protect myself. The walls go up so no one can penetrate. Because anytime I let them down, I've gotten hurt. Been harmed. Damaged. Betrayed. It's never been about me. Not once. No one has ever chosen me. Not my father and not anyone else.