The people in your life shouldn’t give you meaning. Sure, you should feel and enjoy the love, affection, and friendship from a partner, child, parent, sibling, friend, co-worker, roommate, so on. But another person shouldn’t be the biggest reason why you live.
My dad may feel this way with me, his only son. His singular purpose in life was (and probably still is) to see me have kids, to see his son’s sons. I am not much more than living vessel carrying sperm, a functional set of dick and balls to potentially create paternal grandchildren for my old man. Enough words and actions, already. Just knock a girl up, already. A nice Korean girl, preferably. Her words and actions don’t matter, neither.
This was one of the hardest things to get over from my divorce. I didn’t have any kids with ex-wife, so I failed my father, I failed myself.
While licking my wounds from my failed marriage, I came to three conclusions: another marriage is not an option for me, having kids is highly improbable, and I love my dad but he can go fuck himself. I can get him a puppy, a kitten, rabbits, maybe even goats –I heard goats are awesome pets, kinda like dumb dogs– but I can’t get him grandkids.