It'sAllHappening...

Fact: I have a yearly salary above the Pennsylvania household poverty line.

Fact: I have a house, 2 family cars, 2 kids, 3 credit cards-only one of which has a balance, and three cats.

Fact: My car has warning lights on.

Fact: Monthly copays for regularly scheduled doctors appointments a d therapy for my family are over 200 bucks alone.

Facts: I have a wiring problem in my dinning room light switch, so we no longer eat at the table otherwise we'd be eating in the dark -a broken garbage disposal that won't stop leaking -a nasty 70's carpet that needs replaced as its barley attached to the floor anymore -3 couches-none of which are comfortable or not bought/given/or acquired second hand - and another 2 wiring problems in my basement lights.

Fact: I saved a house for five years. Rent is almost twice my mortgage. Prices have raised so much for health and car insurance. But twice as much for homeowners and property taxes that my escrow was negative and I had to spend my entire Christmas bonus and then some on a mortgage payment over twice its regular amount to keep my mortgage from being too much for me to afford monthly in 2025.

Fact: I never knew how to home own.

I always thought I'd have a family that'd help me figure those things out. I also thought they'd teach me how to drive, how to cook, and how to fix things.

Fact: I can't afford shoes without holes in them, so my kids get new shoes instead. I can't afford skin care, so my child gets their inhaler instead. I can't afford a hair cut, so my children will be able to look how they want to for their school photos and go on that school field trip.

Fact: I most certainly can't afford a plumber, and electrician, or a professional carpet replacement/painter/home remodeling. Or the fine for my first speeding ticket, or my MRI bill.

Question: How is anyone doing this? How many jobs do you have to work to afford a one bedroom, and still have money for food? How many Christmas presents is enough for the people you love so much? And how many chairs being empty at your family table is too many before you just break?

Fact: All my chairs are empty. My child wants to live with their other parent instead of me now. I don't have a family to run back home to. And my shoes still have holes in them.

Question: What else do I have to lose?

Fuck forgiveness.

I wear censure - not on my sleeve but directly in my palms. Like the red colored warning bands of a snake to keep predators from taking my hand.

I feel this burning -

All the way deep inside the bricks of my belly as it reminds me I'm still alive.

Even though I'm so broken; I can't fly.

I can't reach the water to extinguish this blaze// Because now.. now I AM drowning.

Gasping for air and grasping at straws to find all the ways to put out the kindles.

Because forgiveness ignited this spread of wildfire. The flame started as a small spark-And it spread to all the parts - OF ME that I gave-

Each time that I forgave.

Every time, I tried to bury it in the soil- hoping the flare would suffocate; but I lost air in my lungs.

As forgiveness held it's purpose in the back of my throat trying to escape as an 'I'm sorry,'

But its exit was being stuck by the hands clasped around it.

Fuck forgiveness.

Fuck patience.

Fuck the never ending black hole that is "I'm sorry."

Fuck words.

And fuck you.

Things I never thought I'd have to write about

Its almost ten years since the last time I saw you.

But I still remember that gut wrenching goodbye like it was yesterday. 

It was that wide grin spread from ear to ear across your beautiful face.

It was the summer breeze that wrapped its arms around us while we kissed the very last time.

You were happy. You’d made it. You were finally picking up and running away to Cali. Fulfilling your dream to travel. All I had left of you was a hat, some old pictures, a faint scent of your cologne from the last night you’d ever lay with me, and the memories of this past summer.

You packed up a bunch of your crap, loaded it into your shitty car, with no more then a computer, a tank full of gas, 90 dollars and two scoops of sunshine in your pocket. You were full of dreams, wishful thinking, naivety, and a completely irrational sense of optimism.

I’d never be so selfish to ask you to stay here with me. On that day that you left, I told you I loved you.

This, you already knew, even though I’d never said it out loud. You knew just by the way I looked at you, with tears in my eyes; those tears alone asked you; “Please, don't go. I love you too much, I don't know how to let you go.”

From the moment those three words left my lips, I knew that it was over. It left that bitter yet familiar taste in my mouth. I knew this was goodbye, and I knew I’d give anything to go back; and never let you end that hug I clenched onto every last second I could before you drove away.

That day, my dearest friend held me tighter then she ever did. She let me cry tears that soaked into her blouse all over her chest, but she just held me tighter.

She grabbed my face as I balled hysterically and tried so hard to not fall to my knees. 

She said “Don't worry ‘babylove’, everything's going to be okay. He’s going to come back for you.” Little did she know, this was the first time my best friend had ever lied to me. She was wrong. How I wish she wasn't so wrong. I wasn’t that stupid, I knew we were never meant to be.

From the moment I first met you, I knew I’d love you for the rest of my life. I was 15. On the day you left, I was 23, with still so much more life ahead of me, and its still true. I will love you endlessly, knowing, we were always doomed to always wondering what we could have been. That will never change for me.

You probably won’t even remember my name.

Even so, I’d give anything to go back to the days when we were so hopelessly in love. For one more night to share our bar stool. For one more drive in your freezing cold car, while you’d awkwardly warm my hands with yours.

One more road trip.

Just one more day...

Just one more day to spread ourselves out on the lawn at our old house. Just you, me, a pack of smokes, and nothing else.

I will never stop missing you.

Please, just... remember my name.