I am not who I was, but I am who I am, and I probably will be who I was...

I've discovered some pretty interesting changes in myself over the past year and a bit.

I'm not talking about the standard "My priorities changed because now I have something to live for" changes, although those exist. Specifically, I'm talking about death and violence. For years, I've loved Tarantino movies, and I followed Dexter religiously. Lots of death and violence in those shows, and it never really affected me much. I recognized it as a plot device and understood that liking artistic depictions of violence is not the same as being violence, or liking violence. My favourite books have always featured dirty settings and flawed characters. I've loved the romance of tragedy my whole life. You can't have a history degree without liking a good war story, right?

Now, I try to like those things, but they've changed. I still watch Dexter and Sons of Anarchy, but the feeling is different. It's almost like I fast-forward the death parts and focus more on the characters and stories. The stuff that's normally covered up by the sexy violence and death. And you know what? Shows like those still hold up for me because I'm invested in the characters.

I got a Blu-Ray player for Christmas, and I started building my movie collection again in a new format. I have a bunch of Tarantino moves, and a personal guilty pleasure, Boondock Saints. Another wonderful Christmas gift? I got the Game of Thrones box-set of books.

And they're all still wrapped in plastic (except Reservoir Dogs. I loaned that one to a friend who'd never seen it). I love those movies, and they're a big part of my history as a pop-culture junkie. I'll probably keep them forever, but for the moment, I don't have any desire to watch them.

Why, you ask? Well, the romantic in me says it's because I choose to believe in a make-believe world that is much brighter, and where happy endings are the norm. I want to make a world like that for my daughter, no question. And right now, I'm having trouble reconciling the old me and the new me.

I think I'll probably end up desensitized again, and I have no doubt I'll watch lots of TV, movies, and read books filled with violence because that's a kind of romance that I will always enjoy.

Again, time to pull the plug, before I run on too much.

Soundtrack: Sports Radio. Go Dogs Go!

Reboot.

I just read some heavy shit. Here's the link:

http://becomeabetterfather.com/family/you-just-broke-your-child-congratulations-by-dan-pearce/

It's pretty well-written, and it tells a very good and necessary story. There's nothing in there that I didn't already know about being a father, but it made me see things clearer.

And now, a bit about me:

I am a Dad, and it's the single greatest job in the history of humanity. I love every minute with Eva. She's the light that guides me, in every possible sense. She was the piece that made me whole. I can't come up with enough superlatives to describe how much better she's made my life, and she can't even say my name yet.

Don't get me wrong, I love my wife-to-be very much, and it's a kind of love that is based on admiration, trust, and a lifetime of proof that I will never find a more compatible soul. She's my support group, my bodyguard, my conscience, and my best friend, all in one. But with Eva, it's different.

There was no period of adjustment, no gaining of trust. It just was. I am her hero. And it's unconditional.

That's an awesome responsibility. Huge. (HuMANgus, in Bryzgalov-Speak). I struggle with the pressure of it often. Not with doing it, that part is easy. But I allow myself exactly zero margin of error, and that's not easy. I work hard, and I try my best though, and I keep the pressure at bay most of the time. Sometimes I get down on myself for not being perfect every minute, because the stakes are so high. But then I take a step back, breathe, and remember I'm human.

I feel like I'm a good father. I know Laura's a great mom (not only is she great, but she makes it look easy most of the time), and I see Eva growing every day, physically and emotionally. It's like there's a brilliant light around her, and it makes everything else better just for coming in contact with her. Strangers can't help but smile when they pass her in a public place.

That's the key, ultimately. She's a happy girl, and that's how people know her. Her smile comes easy, and it fills a room. I know I'm doing more good than bad, because that light keeps growing.

I had more to say, but I really like that line, so I'm going to stop rambling. But I promise to start again soon enough.

Soundtrack: Daughter's Father by Gord Bamford.

A little hokey, but a perfect fit.