When my best friend was here, I could breathe again. Inhale, exhale; I remembered myself. It helped to laugh with her about what a fucking pussy he is. Screw him, after all, you know!? I was a good woman fed a thousand lies. I've survived a thousand broken promises now.
When she left, though, and I was alone again, the bottom dropped out once again. But only for a moment...here I am, managing everything all by myself. Every dinner, every packed lunch, every trip to the store; the kids have everything they could need. I am handling my son's special needs with a peace inside me I've never had: we will make it. Forever now I will know I was only down and out in my bed, wallowing with this pain, for a single weekend. I've been the best version of myself since he's left.
There's things though that I can't admit to anyone...like the dreams I still have that tear me apart. The home phone rang yesterday and it was his generic company number on the caller ID. It could have been him: they all show up that way. My heart raced straight out of my chest. The aftermath of the adrenaline made me sick. I answered it so quickly. If I'm honest with myself I know I wanted it to be him; and I would have given anything to touch him again. He's not quite dead to me. He's just been dying for three months. Almost there in this brand new year.
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