Inside Out

How many chances do you give someone to be a good person, to do the right thing, to be everything you want them to be? Do they get more if they are related to you, more if you need them, or is there some magic number that once you hit it the chance fairy flies away forever? Sometimes it feels like even though you’ve decided “No more Chances,” you find yourself giving them another one anyway. Why? Is it wishful thinking? Hopeful? Ignorance? They hurt you and there is so much anger, resentment, and sadness that when you try to remember who you were before you gave them chances – you cannot. I have been hurt by so many people in this lifetime; some hurt me on purpose – some didn’t, but the outcome was the same regardless of intention. I wanted them to be something they couldn’t, to have goodness they were incapable of, to show me that chances are worth the scars. It rarely turns out that way you know, where people prove they are worth your pain and the pain ends up being the very thing that proves they are not.

People are born with goodness, or they are not. It can be nurtured but it cannot be learned. You are either unselfish or not, a giver or a taker, the person that walks away or the one that stays, a chance taker or a chance stealer. My dad used to tell me never give out second chances for free, you have to make people earn them or they will take take take them until you get tired of handing them out.

I’m tired. Oh, and I miss my dad

… fly hawk across the sky hovering so carefully just beyond my reach. You follow my heart as if it were a memory you cannot let go. When I need you most your presence is known, reminding me you are not far and if I whisper to the wind it will carry you home to me.

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