I never got the expected things

 I never ever got the normal things in life. I never experienced, being daddy's little girl.  I never had a boyfriend, never any fun dates and tender kisses. I never got to go prom dress shopping, and dance because I could; those were the things of fairytales that I knew were never meant for me.  There was never a wedding, never a real belonging anywhere.  I was the girl who was different who saw the world through eyes of terror and believed that I was everything less than all of those around me.  I sit here today on this perfect day, its cloudy, but warm, the birds are singing songs that bounce off the leaves, another Easter .  I am alone, there are no invitations to family dinners or egg hunts.  Once again and as always it is me.  People have families and their people; I don't fit into their boxes.  I don't fit anywhere. You know there is that saying about choosing your family, or something like that.  Well, everyone has their own families that I am just not a part of. I have a few really good friends, I do but they have their own families, and that is something I am not; a part of the family.  Vincent gets off work soon, and Mariska gets off later.  I will make a dinner and we will eat, but there is no sharing of ourselves. I will put on a happy face and makes things special, but for now the tears are streaming.  I live a lonely life and maybe just maybe that is how it is meant to be. I want to share the things happening, I put in a transfer at work, I have my grad school interview, there are things in me that are meant to be shared, there are things that I want to share about my heart, my life the things that I want to accomplish but there is no one to listen. I want to share the things that I think and the way that I work inside, but I can't.

I found a picture of my father on Facebook, and I think is he happy, does he think about the things that he has done.  He is surrounded by people other's daughters and sons and I am the one that is alone.  That feels more like I am the one punished as he goes on to live his life.  There seems something very unfair in that.  I did find his address a tiny little run-down place where he now lives in Missouri, and there was a part of me that felt bad for him.  Me feeling bad for him am I even a thought?  is he sorry?  Probably not.  I live in this big, beautiful house that is all mine and there is a sadness is ever present. The tears are coming more often and I am trying to stay strong, but sometimes I just can't do it. 

I heart your heart.