Another Father’s Day sitting alone on a bench in the park wondering how I could have done things differently.
Perhaps if I hadn’t been so selfish, so callous, so narcissistic, my children would be here with me today. But you can’t change the past, can you? What’s done is done and it cannot be undone. If I could, I would undo it all.
She warned me when she found about my first indiscretion. She said she would forgive me, but she wasn’t sure that, if the children ever found out, they could forgive me.
I told her that I was sorry, that it was a mistake that happened in a moment of weakness, and that it would never happened again.
But it did happen again. And again. And again.
There was no forgiveness left in her. The kids found out, too, and they showed no willingness to forgive, either. She took the kids and they all left me.
And so here I sit, alone on a park bench on Father’s Day, a picture of loneliness. I’ve lost my wife. I’ve lost my kids. All I have left are my regrets. And the hungry ducks to keep me company.
Written for today’s Sunday Photo Fiction prompt from Susan. Picture credit: Susan Spaulding.