The more we move ahead the more we're stuck in rewind

Embarrassing pauses sprinkle our conversation; when the task of dropping the girls off is done, we talk small until there is nothing left to generalize. I leave, cry, wondering if I ever knew you.

Then I remember not being able to wait to return home to tell you all of these occurrences or thoughts that came to me throughout the day... in the end, I came home to find a woman irritated with her life, and not feeling love at all. I should have told you anyway.

The thoughts never dissipated... they surrounded me like little anxious birds in my head, wanting freedom. I started having conversations with myself, imagining what you would say back to me if we were in love.

Pink Christmas

It has been 9 months since you told me to leave. I still feel it as if it were March 25.

I dreaded this day out of all, as Christmas morning is the culmination of family, love and togetherness. Someone else gets that role now.

My favorites were ones where I had to set up your gift, like the pink bike. It's one of the few gifts I felt confident about, and was anxious to see what you'd think when you came downstairs to find it. I imagined that the expression on your face would be like that of you as a young girl on Christmas morning.

You know all too well how much I could see you as a girl.