In May I'll have been at my job for ten years. In that time I've seen coworkers come, burn out, move on, become something, become nothing. I have been like a sentinel; I have stood guard and stood watch. I have protected those that needed protection and I have told off the people that needed a telling off. I have cultivated crews, watched them grow up, watched them move on. I have served customers that were ungrateful. I have found friends among people who simply showed up everyday, though all we had in common was that we both went to (redacted) every day. Me, for work, them, for (redacted product). In May, I'll have devoted a full decade of my life to this place, which doesn't even pay me enough to afford an apartment on my own. I have starved to go to school. I have given up joy and travel and all sorts of frivolities in order to hone my craft. Over ten thousand hours I have made (redacted product). No one is as skilled, as talented, as fast on the line as I am. When you're that good at your job, they want you to run the store. They offer you the role. They never trained me for it, though I was told I'd travel to learn what was necessary.
When you ultimately failed, once, because they went back on their word, abandoned me, left me without support, they blame me, not themselves. I have given years of my life to people who do not appreciate the literal blood I've spilled in this place.
Now, before I'm even gone they're replacing me. The new manager has been there for all of a month and I've seen him show up hungover, in a mood, late a couple times. No worse than me, I suppose. No better either. I sit on the side of a shallow retention pond, eyes cast skyward, wondering where I went wrong to throw my life away on this place. A month ago I had a seizure for the first time in my life. Even my body is in revolt now. Why did I give anything to this place?
In the sky there are no answers. No one replies when I pray in quiet. Cold, uncomfortable tears streak my cheeks to disperse into the pillow. I try not to even move my head so I don't have to feel them. I can pretend like they don't exist. I can't pretend that I don't exist.














