365 days, it’s officially been a year since John’s passing. I wish it happened sooner. John, well my father, was never there for me, I never felt his love, I will always resent him. The only thing I can credit him for is his consistency, his father was John, he was John, and he named me John. In his passing he left me one thing, his journal. It has sat on my mantle everyday for the past 9 months. He was always such a curiosity to me, I’ve begun to wonder what's in it. For the past 3 months the curiosity has torn at me, I'm going to read it after I put my son and daughter down for bed tonight. I walk upstairs and call out to my children that it’s time for bed. I tuck my 12 year old son in and go to my daughter’s room, after tucking my daughter into bed I tell her I love her and I read her a quick story of a cat and a hat. I head downstairs, grab a glass of wine, grab the journal, and I begin. “There are five senses: touch, sight, hearing, smell, taste. I've touched and I've been touched, I've seen and I've been seen, I've experienced the sensation of smell, I've experienced the sensation of taste, but the one thing I can say is I've never experienced being heard. All five human senses and yet I feel that I lack one. I've had conversations, I've talked to friends, I have family, I can speak and I can write, but yet I lack the feeling of being heard. I speak my mind and I have people that listen but yet I still haven't been heard. I am a common man. I am no different than anyone else, I have my own thoughts, my own opinions, and my own voice but yet I still feel as if no one understands me. I am a common man. My story is no different from another. I've had a stereotypical life. I have a mother, a father, and a sister. I had pets growing up. I've lived the stereotypical suburban life. I am a common man. Although I say I am common, and it may seem I am basic, there is a lot to know about me, but no one does. I express myself in ways that many others do, but I still don't feel heard. It's funny because as a child I felt as if I was the most important person in the world, but as I've grown I've realized I am no different than another. I've spoken my mind and said my peace, but yet my life hasn't changed. I've asked my father if he thinks the same as me, although he didn't give me a direct answer, it seemed as though he agreed. I am a common man.” Before I could continue reading through his story, my son ran downstairs screaming about his nightmare, why is he being a baby? It's just a nightmare. I tell him my exact thoughts and tell him to go back upstairs and act like a man. He quietly turns around and slowly walks up the stairs and all I can think about is how he’s acting like a little child. I would understand if it was my daughter but not him. I check the time and realize I’ve been reading for nearly an hour, I think I should take a break. Walking upstairs I use the restroom and then check to make sure my daughter is still asleep. I go back downstairs and make myself a snack, while I look back into the living room I see the journal still sitting there open. I sit back down and continue on the next page. “When I was seven, my sister was born, I was so happy, my family grew. But with a growing family, the love dwindles. All attention on me went to my baby sister, any love that I had felt was stuck in the past. Although I feel love, I don't feel loved. On my 8th birthday I was running around in the backyard when I fell, I cried and cried, no one came. I ran to my father with teary eyes, I told him what happened, he told me that men don't cry. When I was 12 I asked my mother if she still loved me, she said “Of course dear why wouldn't I” I told her of the lack of attention and love I receive, and in response she downplayed what I said and told me to man up. I am a common man. As society grows, the one thing that hasn’t is the idea of a man.” Looking at his words in writing makes me feel empty, this is the same man that never showed me love, gave me backhanded compliments. Couldn’t even smile at my graduation, didn’t even give me a call on my wedding day. This man doesn’t have emotions, he’s never shown me any but he can sit here and write as though he does. With my anger brewing I skip ahead three pages to more lies. “I feel emotion yet I can not express it, I can feel pain but I must act as though it is not existent. My emotions are bound to me like a glove on a hand, but when I unbound the glove, I am judged and ridiculed. I am a common man. I spoke to my sister and wondered if she has ever felt unheard. Although she said yes, when I asked her of her experience, the experience of what she had is all I ever wanted. I am a common man. People ask me for my opinions and ask me to share my thoughts, but yet when I share my story I feel the judgment seep through. I am seen but not heard, they can hear me but yet they don't understand when i speak my true self no one is around. My name is John, I am 24 years old and I am THE common man. Recently I met a wonderful woman. Although she can't relate to feeling unheard, she can hear me. I've felt her touch when we hug, I can see her beauty, I've heard her majestic voice, I've smelt her flower scented perfume, and I've tasted her cherry flavored lipstick. This is the girl I want to marry. I’m 30 now, I've been married to my beautiful wife Jane for exactly 24 hours now, I’ve been so happy with us that I can’t wait to continue my life with her. We are starting to become older so we need to start on growing our family. I’m scared of course, my mind is wondering and I have no clue how to raise my children. I want to give my daughter the world and toughen up my son. The more he grows the more expectations I have. I want him to be a better man than I have ever been. I am a common man. I'm 31 years old and my son was just born. I'm 37 years old and my daughter was just born. I'm 43, my son is 12 and my beautiful daughter is now 6 and my father has just passed away. I'm unbothered by his death, to be honest, I wish he died sooner, I never felt his love, I will always resent him. He is the same man that never showed me love, gave me backhanded compliments, and couldn’t even smile at my graduation, he didn’t even give me a call on my wedding day. However, I've been bothered by my son becoming distant with me. I’ve asked my wife if she knows what’s wrong and she tells me he is becoming a man. I accept her answer and decide to move on. I am 55 years old and I haven't talked to my son in 2 and a half years. He’s 24 and I've heard he found a wonderful girl. The more I grow in age, I realize I've raised him the same way my father has raised me. I’m scared to call, I know he resents me, I just wish I can redo it all. I love my son more than anything in the world, more than myself, my mother, his mother, more than everything, and he will never know. I’m 74 years old now, my son hasn’t come around to visit me in 14 years. I haven’t gotten to meet his children, I wasn’t invited to his wedding. I regret everything. I’m lying on my deathbed, my daughter has visited me, my wife still loves me, but my son doesn’t even have a second thought about me. I was the common man.” Looking at my father’s words makes me sick to my stomach, he’s lived the exact life I have. I’ve been no better. The thoughts of my father feel tainted now, I regret everything.
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