Failure.

My Dearest Son,

I love you dearly. I love you more than I ever thought I could love another human being, including myself. And for that reason, I have to say with meaning and feeling as deep as the universe, I am sorry. I’m trying as hard as I can, and in the end it isn’t enough. Most likely because I’m just not capable and have too much pride to admit it. It certainly isn’t for lack of want or lack of love, please know that.

The biggest piece of advice I will ever be able to give you is this: Don’t become like me. Because if you become like me, this is the life you will lead, and as you can tell, other than your presence it’s not turned out all that well for me. Realize my flaws for what they are. Get angry with me because I haven’t prepared you for the world. Get angry that I can’t teach you patience, empathy, communication, selflessness, listening, remembering, or any of the skills that I lack to develop and maintain healthy relationships. Get furious at me for not doing my job as a parent. Resent me for having to look elsewhere for these lessons. God knows you’re entitled to feel that way.

What’s happening now is not normal, not the way I want it to be. It’s in my power to stop it and turn it all around, yet I struggle mightily with how to do that, failing at every turn. And as long as I struggle and fail, you and Mom both suffer. And neither of you deserve that.

I don’t know what the future holds, but please, please take my advice as soon as you can. It may turn out to be the best thing I can do for you.

I’m sorry.

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