current | archives | rings | guestbook | profile | notes | design | host

v u l v a l i c i o u s

2016-05-27 // 3:31 a.m.

there are losers and there are winners. and we know who we are.

my father is kind, decent, helpful to a fault. we sit at the table and tell all the stories of the times he was taken advantage of, left behind when a plan turned out wrong. we're sitting at the table and he leaves to go to the bathroom and my aunt says, "your daddy just can't win."

we were supposed to live in the house for 3 years. it was the wrong house in the right place, and he wanted to build a home for my mom. from nothing, whatever she wanted. and then we lost it.

the man he worked with closed their joint accounts, took jobs on his own, took the license he'd shared with my dad. my mom said she wanted to stay in the house that was wrong, because it was right across the street from my grandparents, her parents, and that felt right.

they stayed until the bank took it, my dad going with my mom to sign away the house on the day she got out of the hospital.

it was a mess. it's always a mess. losers don't win all at once. we get enough, just enough, and then we don't anymore.

my mom died on the fourth, the week of mother's day. in the end we knew. the nurse said it was close, that she was "active," and that we should let people know. my dad was away all day, working, and in his absence i called the priest to deliver her last rites and texted my sister to say she needed to come.

i cleaned and made phone calls and didn't cry as much as i should have. wanted to. needed to.

it catches up to me at odd times, usually in the car or during certain sad commercials. i get a choked feeling, and then there are tears. and i can't breathe, but i don't deserve to, so it's fine. i cry and shout and then it all stops, like a toilet overflowing until someone shuts off the water.

i'm shocked that i haven't lost it. i know i will. i keep making lists in my mind for when i get home: get therapy, work a lot, pay bills, check on dad, find a way to come home again. don't fuck it up.

it feels like i will, though. i'm scared. i don't want to be alone. i drift into dreams of someone to hold me and let me cry, hold me down and let me fight them. i go on tinder and slide left left left left, then switch to ok cupid and scroll until i'm bored. it happens fast. i'm not actually interested in finding someone. i want them here already.

but it doesn't work that way. we don't win, it doesn't end well. like a movie you only want to watch once, a little sadder than you thought it would be.


shots fired - 2016-10-23
insomniac anxieties and the luck of the draw - 2016-10-15
three years later - 2016-08-27
exhaust - 2016-07-28
pop pop pow - 2016-07-04