Growing up as an only child with a single parent, I had a lot of time to myself. Most days I was home alone from the time school ended (usually around 2:30-3:00pm) until around 7:00pm when my mom would get home from work. Saturday mornings were more of the same, as my mom would sleep in and recover from a long week.
Like most kids, my free time was filled with video games, comic books, and playing outside with my friends. But, the thing I loved to do the most was watch cartoons.
You’re a good man! I have heard this reinforcement from my wife on countless occasions. I know it’s not just lip-service either; I know she truly means it, but even after 10 years together I still have a hard time believing it. I don’t think I’m a bad person by any means, and I’m certainly not worried that other think I’m a bad person, because that’s just not true.
Sure, like anyone else I can be an asshole from time to time. But what I am, is afraid. Afraid what I could become; afraid of what my future may hold, afraid of my past catching up with me; afraid that my son will one day see me as I see my parents. This is the real reason I believe the Wife reminds me regularly that I’m a good man, because she knows I need to hear it; because she knows the scars are so deep; because she knows I don’t believe it, especially when it comes to raising our son.