i'm a liability

will ezra ever feel like he’s mine? i wake up and i go to sleep and everything is a fog, just day in and day out. everything’s blurry and no matter how often i rub my eyes or clean my glasses or fix my contacts, i can’t get it right. it’s on and off. sometimes, things feel okay. the other day, i woke up and hayley and i had sex in the shower and i made her and the kids breakfast and we ate outside in the sun and it was good. it felt normal. we felt like us--we felt like the williams family again. tonight, i feel off. i feel separated; me, here, on my own. them, there, together and safe. i don’t know how to fix it. i might be too tired to fix it.

he’s perfect. life, like this, with this little beacon of light and newness, has been perfect. i don’t have the right words for it but it’s okay. hayley and i had to learn how to continuously be on the same page and it’s something we had to put our blood and sweat and tears into, but we got it right. we got it right and i think, right now, i don’t have to find the right words because she has them already and she understands already. she feels the same tugging in her chest that i do when she holds him. she looks at him with the same exact adoration that i do. god, i’d never put so much weight on such a tiny baby’s shoulders--but i think i have to. he’s everything. when i was struggling to get clean, when i was grinding my bones down to dust to earn hayley’s trust back, it was all to get to him. he’s always been the goal. 

i keep having these nightmares. you know, since the car accident, i haven’t been able to sleep right. i close my eyes and i hear metal on metal and glass shattering and tires squealing on the pavement...i wasn’t even there, but i still have nightmares about it.

god, sometimes i miss coke. sometimes i miss pills. isn’t that so fucking pathetic? i have this life—i have a wife and a daughter and a baby on the way. we’re buying our first house together. i’m in love and i’m happy and sometimes i wake up and my first thought isn’t about how warm my hayley feels next to me or how big her belly’s gotten or any of it. sometimes i wake up and my first thought is fuck i wish i could pop a pill before getting out of bed and facing my day. and she doesn’t know. of course she doesn’t know because i won’t ever tell her. i won’t ever tell her about how mac miller’s death kills me to think about but it’s still not enough to kill off the last little part of me that still, some days, wants to get high. 

i've always sworn by saying whatever hayley wants, all she has to do is ask me. i'll figure out a way to get her whatever it is, as quickly as possible. that's what i'm here for, you know? i want that girl to have whatever the fuck she wants. anything she can think of, i just need her to ask and it's hers.