Shower Ramblings

It's not a monthly anniversary, it's not a birthday, and it's not the one year mark. It's just another day. It's another day of tears and heartache.

A friend described it perfectly. It's an actual physical hurt. It really actually brings pain to your body.

A loss like this. A loss that takes your breath away. A loss that makes you look at your child and wonder what you'll tell him when he's old enough to understand. A loss that crosses your mind an amount of times that you can't keep count.

Tears. Tears like these just seem normal now. When they stroll down your face for the billionth time in 9 months, they eventually stop stinging. They're just there. Just there sitting in your eyes, for what seems like, all the time.

Rambling. Rambling is all I’ve got. I don't even have a title yet. I don't have a point. I have tears and weights on my chest. I have a little boy who's cried for his daddy the last 5 nights in a row. I have a little boy who said he needs his daddy to teach him baseball. How does he even know this at age 2? How does he even still remember?

Would it be easier if he didn't remember? Am I cold hearted bitch for even thinking that? Or am I just a tired mom with broken heart?

Have you ever had your heart break in so many ways that it just feels numb but hurts like hell at the same time?

My heart is broken for me. My heart is broken for my son. My heart is broken for Charles. It's all busted up and like they say, it doesn’t break even.

Why do nights like these hit without warning? I mean, you're going about your routine and fuck, you can't breathe. Why did Kaleb go a couple months without mentioning his dad but cries for him every night since last Thursday? Why today? Why now? Questions we'll never know the answers to. All these fucking questions we'll never get answers for.

As I stand here, looking at my son through my glass shower doors, I realize something; he's playing with his trains and planes in the doorway of the bathroom because from there, he can still see me. He never lets me out of his sight. Ever. No matter where I go, he follows me. Even while I’m taking a shower, he’s right there. Can you just imagine how damn scared he must be that I'm going leave and never come back? Or how his trust has been completely destroyed. At age two, he has trust issues.

This life is pretty damn hard and sometimes, sometimes I want to throw in the towel and just live life from my bed.

That's not reality though. You know that. I know that.

Reality is that these times come and go. Hopefully the tears will go and smiles will come.

In fact, I know smiles will still come tonight because after prayers, I'll tell Kaleb that I promise to never leave him and he'll say, "you rweally promise?" and I'll say, "I really promise" and then he'll hug my neck and say we're best friends.

For right now though, all I can do is cry. And pray for a little more hot water.