Learning to Cry by Christopher C. Payne Page A

which is not a regular occurrence in the NBA. The last few seconds are all that matters. Whoever has the ball, whoever makes that last shot, whoever chokes and misses the last shot. It is all about timing.
    Had I known at that moment what Melissa was experimenting with just a few days before maybe I could have adjusted the announcement to a different day. Maybe it didn’t matter. Maybe the reason she was finally trying drugs was she anticipated what was happening. Maybe, maybe, maybe. I guess second guessing helps very little. I do know with the news she received and her recent initiation into the drug scene, she opened up willingly, accepting any risk that came her way. I don’t think she lost her ability to care, but she did find a new drive for taking chances.
    The hardest thing for me was not being there for her. I didn’t have the answers then, and I still don’t have them now. Should I have forced her to see me? Should I have pushed the issue? Cheryl blamed me for everything at that point. She influenced the girls to blame me, as well. At one point, she actually told them she had asked me to come home, and I had refused. Maybe I was to blame. My ex-wife would have been willing to ride it out no matter how unhappy we were. Was I at fault or was I to be thanked for liberating both of us from years of misery?
    Another friend of mine at the time was very cut and dry. He, as a Catholic, feels that once you are married, you stick it out. You made your choice so you live with it until you die. I am just not convinced. I was 24 when Cheryl and I met. I was 26 when we got married. I was 27 when we had our first child. Did I need to take responsibility for my actions? Yes, I did. Did I need to live in depressed sadness until I was dead? That part has me a little stumped.
    Ironically, that same friend has a wife who does not love him. She wants desperately to leave him but cannot, strictly because of their financial situation. Theirs is a doomed marriage. It is only a matter of time. I do not wish divorce on anyone. I would not want anyone to go through the suffering my children did during that hate-filled process. But I can say how much happier I now am. How much better I feel about myself. I was able to be a better father because of the change in my mental state, and I will always have the divorce to thank for that. You can never be a healthy, loving parent when you spend every minute hating the person lying next to you.
    I am just unsure of how much harm I have caused and if the damage to my children is irreparable. We all have to live with our decisions, and I will be living with mine forever. Sadly, for the next several months I lived without my oldest daughter, as well. She didn’t budge, and her summer was filled with trials of sadness. Again, if only I had known. If only I had been aware of what was about to occur.
    Maybe I have figured out what hell really is. Maybe hell is nothing more than the self-inflicted punishment we dole out to ourselves. Does anyone judge you more harshly than you judge yourself? I don’t think so, but then again. ……At this point I feel my punishment is deserved.
     

 
     
     
Graduation and Summer
     
     
    Father
     
    Graduation. Both Amelia and Melissa were graduating, yet their mental states were drastically different. Amelia was excited to have me at her ceremony while Melissa didn’t really speak with me. It is tough fighting through the dynamics of a divorce. I was getting settled in my apartment in Pacifica, starting to collect some furnishings. Everything came from Craig’s List. It is the only way to shop. Still day-to-day life moved on, and I found myself faced with the transition of my daughters into yet another cycle of perpetual upheaval.
    Amelia was cute in a “stunning little girl” sort of way on her big day. She was growing up quickly but was still so very innocent. The graduation ceremony was a little awkward with Cheryl’s parents and her family being there. One