blaming_him andie so many times i have told the story the one of where he left me waiting-----on the front porch for the old familiar truck to drive up my seven and a half year old tears when i realized he wasn't coming and that story has been my alibi held fast to in tough times like a child to a security blanket this is why i am how i am my youth troubled with so many questions why did he do such a thing? how do you abandon a child? still, no answer has come whenever the safety and sanctity of my heart was threatened there was his shadow to chase the unknown away this is why i am how i am just the other night, thinking of him and how his reappearance turned my existence upside down i wonder why i let him do that to me what he did for so many silent year left me aching for love, yet fearing it and this is why i am how i am copyright 2001 010113 ... deb it's so easy to do, casting all that hatred and empty anger upon the boychild who corrupted me- what's worse, though, is to blame yourself- "i could have run away" "i could have said something" "if i had only..." "if i hadn't..." somehow, it had to be my fault, though- somehow- it's the only way i can deal with all of this, blaming myself- and then i watch good will hunting and at the "it's not your fault. it's not your fault. it's not your fault." part, i break down in tears- because it really wasn't. and the movie moves along. and i splash cold water on my now-swollen eyes. and i pretend it didn't make me cry again. 010114 what's it to you? who go blather from