Jet To No Where

Help me find out if I am on a Jet To No where…or just on stand by.

Archive for the category “Family”

Beautiful Day

It was a beautiful day yesterday. The type of day in which one would get in their car and drive for hours without any destination or hesitation. The type of day that would lead one somewhere they would never have gone before and possibly end up in a strange place with no idea how they got there. I drove around on this beautiful day in my little VW convertible with the top down. The car isn’t much to look at, but it’s so much fun to drive because it’s a standard. The power behind driving a standard can only be felt by people who love driving a standard. Running through the gears….controlling how the caramels is exhilarating. With the top down on days like this, it’s perfect.

Things have fallen off the car such as, tail lights, the the front and back VW emblem’s, The interior leather panels and sometimes the trunk won’t pop open, but only the tail lights have been replaced. The back is covered with stickers, someone worn from the weather….others still in pristine condition. All the tires had to of been replaced at one time or another with used tires, as I do not see the need to purchase brand new tires because a used tire is just as good and cheaper. Most of the time the guys at the place I go to don’t even charge me so I just give them a tip …a very large tip because it restores my faith in the fact that they are still good people out in this world. There is one missing hubcap in which I would explain, but it is not relevant to what I am speaking of now. Most importantly, is mechanically sound and it is paid for.

The stereo is broken so I use a Bluetooth speaker with my iTunes on my phone and I listen to music in traffic. When I listen to music I REALLY listen to it. Everyone says they love music. Music has the ability to transcend time and space. It makes you laugh and it makes you cry. It can make you angry or it can make you serene. Today it made me serene. I needed serenity this morning. I needed much more than serenity.

When I speak of listening to music, I mean listening with such an intent that you have no idea what else is going on around you. You cannot hear anyone talking, You cannot hear the cars driving bye…..you can slightly hear the wind blow if you try, but you shouldn’t try to. If you are really listening to the lyrics, the message, the bass line, the drums, the bongos, the combination of everything and how it come together in such harmony…. when you hear something that is so spectacular that he takes you to another level of consciousness…. that is true genius.

I’ve always wanted to go to Jim Morrison’s grave. It’s on my list of things to do before I die. I suppose everyone has a list like this of some sort, but mine has reasoning and intent behind each and every item on that list. Years ago when I told my significant other at the time that I wanted to go there, I also said I wanted to go alone. He was very angry and confused. I tried to explain to him I did not think you could possibly appreciate the experience as much as I would. He just could not understand that and inevitably I had to lie and say we would go together… knowing I would never do that.

This ties into the idea of how much I love to be alone. I love to go to the beach by myself, drive up and down A1A for miles in each direction and just come back home. I have music and time right now and I’m using all of it to the best of my ability….making the most of all of it. One of the best days I had was with my 10-year-old in traffic. He seemed to be a little down that day, but wouldn’t say why. I didn’t push him but instead, I put on run DMC’s, It’s Tricky. My introverted, sweet little boy knew every single word to that song. I had no idea. Sometimes he is an enigma to me because he is so introverted. But on this day we sat in traffic and drove and listened to that song over and over again……singing all the words together and it was beautiful.

Here is the point that I am trying to convey in a very roundabout way:

There is a lot huge difference between being alone and being lonely. I am not lonely at all, but I do love being alone. I love to be alone with my own thoughts, writings, music, children….Anything one would require a friend or significant other to be with to do, I will do alone with ease and without hesitation. It doesn’t bother me to eat in a restaurant alone. I don’t need someone to go out to see a band at a bar alone…..And I will see Jim Morrison’s grave in the next year or so, alone. It is not lonely when you love what you are doing by yourself. Because in the end you will never be happy with anyone else until you are happy being alone.

Advertisements

Quote of the Day

“The most intriguing people you will encounter in this life are the people who had insights about you, that you didn’t know about yourself.”

~ Shannon L. Alder

https://www.goodreads.com/quotes/tag/kindred-spirits

17 Years

How do I even begin to describe this feeling…hopelessness, lost, alone….

My mother died 17 years ago and every time I come here, it’s as if it were yesterday. She was always proud of me no matter what I did. I told her everything. She was and still will always be my best friend.

She always wore lipstick everyday, even if it was the only stitch of make-up she had on. I guess that’s where I got from. I love wearing lipstick because it makes me feel happy. She told me that along time ago.

And aside from today, I’m all about doing things that make me happy.

Lessons from a Doomed Marriage

https://www.fatherly.com/love-money/relationships/what-i-learned-marrying-first-person-sex/?utm_campaign=AudDev-30FB-Excluded&utm_medium=PaidSocial&utm_source=Facebook

A great read for anyone with questions on why their marriage did not work out….,

I know my reasons, which may be worse.

I have posted this saying before, but still true…

Don’t Believe me Just Watch

Explaining #1

 

There is not one thing that I ever set out to do in my life that I have not accomplished. I may have started later than most, but I got it done. I have a list of shit I need to do before I die…and let’s face it, that may be any moment now by what my cardiologist has been telling me since August. Another time.

What bothers me is the lack of supportive people that are around when one accomplishes something that is great to them. Just because it isn’t what one person would have chosen, doesn’t mean it isn’t exactly what your friend, boyfriend, girlfriend, relative, etc… wanted to do and possibly needed to do. No one needs to view some else’s accomplishments as threats or an attempt to “one up” someone else. More importantly, do not tell someone that they are not any good at what they love to do. That is just a shitty attitude to have toward someone that one is supposed to care about.

Humans are jealous. Everyone wants what their neighbor has. Until they finally realize that their neighbor’s life is a shit show. Why can’t everyone just do what makes them happy and everyone else just nod and say, “Good on Ya!” You know why?

Because no matter what it is that you are doing that people disapprove of,  you finally have to say, “You know what? I’m too old to be listening to what other people think and hanging out with people I don’t like” (Big thanks to my grandfather for that line, RIP). Until that moment, when you REALLY get it, everyone is going to keep shitting on your dreams, aspirations, accomplishments, etc…..and old is relative to your state of mind. Those accomplishments may be insignificant to one, but may mean the whole world to you. Your decision to do what you love and be happy intimidates those who are drudging through life by the status quo. Just because you choose a different path doesn’t mean it’s not the right path….It’s just not the right path for other people.

If people are embarrassed by what you do, then they do not need to be around you. You’re not hurting anyone, right? Then their freak-out is not your problem…it’s theirs. Having the balls to actually do what you want to and not give a shit about what others may think, is complete bliss.

I used to say that I never cared what people thought and that was true for the most part, but was I really being honest with myself?

If I am happy, why does that bother people? I write about many things that most people, a lot of women mostly, would never admit. I am not lying, not hurting anyone, certainly not embarrassing myself, as nothing embarrasses me….so, why is it a problem for people? Why is speaking (well, writing) my mind so horrible. It’s honest and raw. I read so many blogs and I think, wow, finally someone is stating the truth. It doesn’t matter the subject. If everyone was as honest and open with themselves as they claim to be, then why would something that someone else wrote bother them?

Refer back to paragraph # 3. Jealousy and envy. Those are the worst of the seven deadly sins…..and I use the term “sin” loosely, as I don’t believe people as a whole are inherently bad or evil.

I’ve said it before, I lost myself for so very long. I was clouded, gloomy, and sunless. Now I feel as if I’m not just using 10% of my brain….. I’m using it all. I know how to accomplish what I have always wanted to do. I have been told that I never will….

 

Don’t believe, just watch…..

#youcantcomeonmyyacht

 

 

Fillicide Follow Up….

 

I don’t know if this will mean anything to me. I was angry at Jake before I had this dream. He was being disrespectful earlier in the day, but this still haunts me and I have hugged and kissed him every chance I have had since this dream. I know you cannot control your dreams, but all of this is frightening to me. I only hope I never experience it again.

 

INTERPRETATIONS OF THE DREAM:

http://www.dreambible.com/dreamdictionary/c2.html

Children

To see your real life children in a dream represents ideas, habits, or developments that are being encouraged. Situations or aspects of your life that you want to see powerful or flourish. It may also reflect an aspect of yourself based on the one thing that stands out the most about that child.

If you have more than one child in real life then each child will represent a different aspect of your life based on your most honest feelings about then.

To dream of losing a child represents feelings of being overloaded or stretched beyond your limits. Juggling too much at once or “dropping the ball” with something because you are too involved with something else. Getting so caught up in minor details that you forget what’s most important.

To dream of a child dying represents a loss or unpleasant change to some area of your life that had potential. Positively, a child death may reflect a growing problem that has finally been dealt with.

If you dream of children that you don’t recognize it represents new ideas, or situations that are being encouraged. Something not thought of before. Negatively, it may reflect burdens, responsibilities, or problems that have to be looked after.

Evil children symbolize negative or corrupted aspects of your personality that are being encouraged. It may also point to a bad situation or problem that feels like it’s getting out of control or scares you. Evil children may also reflect childish beliefs or habits that are getting out of hand.

Alternatively, children may reflect aspects of your personality that are playful, young at heart, or childish in intention. You don’t want to be involved with anything serious.

*Please See Son. *Please See Daughter.

Son

To dream of a son that you don’t have represents an emotional investment or hope for the future in a situation where you are dominant, assertive, or insensitive. Determined protective feelings. Doing everything you can to maintain control over a situation. Being stuck with a decision where you have a leading or controlling stake. Deciding to assert yourself or be aggressive and now living with the consequences or responsibility of that decision. A developing masculine aspect of your personality or life.

 To dream of a son you actually have in waking life may represent a situation you hope to see succeed or thrive. If you have more than one son in real life then each son will represent a different aspect of yourself based on your most honest feelings about then. Ask yourself what qualities or feelings stand out the most to you about your son and try to see how that may apply to a situation in waking life.

 Alternatively, dreaming about your son may reflect your waking life relationship with him.

 Evil sons symbolize negative or corrupted aspects of your personality that you are encouraging. It may also point to a bad situation or problem that you are supporting. You may feel that your own aggression or assertiveness has turned on you.

Example: A man dreamed seeing his dead son. In waking life he had lost his eligibility for home insurance, which worried him a lot. The dead son represented the lost home insurance which the man cared about getting back.

Example 2: A man dreamed of seeing his older son as a child. In waking life his was experiencing his son moving out of the house for the first time. The son being little reflected the man’s projection of his son doing something new with his life.

 *Please See Children. *Please See Daughter.

MORE INTERPRETATIONS:

http://www.thecuriousdreamer.com/dreamdictionary/

To dream of killing:

categories: Activities

Killing or wanting to kill often represents a desire for power or control, often based in feelings of powerlessness. Killing someone can mean:

  • You’d like to take power from whomever or whatever that person represents in your real life, perhaps so you can feel less powerless
  • You are angry at them in real life
  • You’re feeling unwilling to deal with the problems or hassles you feel they cause you

Killing someone in self defense can mean you’re feeling attacked somehow (mentally, emotionally, physically) or that you need to defend yourself or stand up for yourself somehow.

Killing someone accidentally can mean you’re afraid you’ll accidentally hurt that person, that something you do may be detrimental to them somehow, or that your subconscious mind is thinking things through to make sure this doesn’t happen.

To dream of attacking someone:

If you dream you are attacking someone (physically or mentally), consider your feeling during the dream:

  • If you are attacking because you are angry at the person, you are probably really angry at them or something related to them
  • If you are attacking to protect yourself against an attack by them, you may feel threatened by that person’s criticism, hostility, ambition, etc. in real life

Fillicide

Marilyn Manson

“Is adult amusement killing our children, or is killing our children amusing adults?”  ―    Marilyn Manson

 

My son was gone.

I was screaming his name over and over, echoing through the vast rooms with high ceilings and shiny old oak crown molding. I was running down every stair case, looking into every room, searching…..scouring what was easily 25 old, Victorian style rooms. I yelled  his name so many times that I was hoarse. My through scratchy and tired, my heart pounding with each gasp.

“Jakob!!!!!”, I cried,……..nothing.  “JAKOB, WHERE ARE YOU???!!!???”, I bellowed down with each step. No response.

I don’t remember why I was looking for him. I know I was angry, but I have no clue as to why. He wasn’t answering me. He knew I hated that. I always told him that if he hears me call his name to never yell, “What?”, back to me. He was to come to where ever I was in the house. I knew he was mad, so that is why he wasn’t answering me and it infuriated me more and more. I was so angry, yet frantic…searching….”Jakob!”……”Jakob!”…..”JAKOB!!!”…..

I found him on the first floor. There must have been five or six staircases that I remember going down. I didn’t recognize the house either. I was a house from a faint childhood memory that I may have been in once when I was a little girl. Jakob was so angry that he would not even look at me.

I kept screaming, “Why didn’t you answer me?”….”What the fuck is wrong with you?!?”…….”I am going to kill you for this one!”…..yet, I don’t know why I was mad or what he had done to set me off so badly.

I had my hands around his throat, tightening my grip while he tried to yell….”Please, mom…..PLEASE MOMMY, DON”T….” I would stop and say, “This is what you get for acting this way!!!!”…..”This is what happens when you don’t answer me!!!!”. He fell to his knees and I stopped. When he started to speak, to ask me what was wrong with me….I started choking him again……”How do you like this?”….”Huh?”…..”Are you happy now?”….”Are you glad you didn’t answer me, that you IGNORED ME???!!!???”.

Then all I heard was a crack. I knew instantly what I had done. My arms fell. They hit the floor like lead. I was sobbing, ….NO…..NO….NO!!!”….What have I done?!?!”….”OH God PLEASE NO!!!!!!!”, I echoed the entire house. Then, his face faded away….. I was holding a screen…I think it was an iPad, cracked with the Apple on the front fading because I knew I had broken it….or him….

I just woke up sobbing. I am inconsolable. Why the fuck would I dream of killing my child? He is my life, my love, my legacy.

We went to IKEA today. It was Jake, Owen, Sami, Jayden, Seth and Jill. We met Robin and Miles, Jake’s best friend, there. It was such a long, exhausting day. If anyone has ever been to an IKEA, especially with one child, let alone five, they know exactly what I am talking about. Jake and Miles were running around the store, getting food in the cafeteria…..just goofing around as usual. He wasn’t especially bad…he was just bored and being 12 with his best friend. Robin had to leave early, so Jake went with them to sleep over Miles’ house. I miss Jake so much when he sleeps out. Sometimes I lie and say something like, “Oh, not tonight honey….we have a lot of stuff to do tomorrow.”, just so I have him home. He is my baby.

About two hours after he left the store, he called me. I had his iPod in  my purse, so he wouldn’t lose it while he was running around. He asked me to bring it over to him. I told him I was still here, at IKEA. He was angry. ….”What?”, he said in a disgusted voice. “I thought you would have been home by now.”….. You could tell he was mad. He was huffing and deep signing.

I said, “No, I told you it was going to be a long day and just because you forgot to get it before you left is not my problem…..There is no way I am….NEVERMIND!”,  I screamed. “I don’t have time to argue about this! Too bad!”…and I hung up. It was getting late. I was tired, frustrated with 4 kids and Jill was the same and getting on my nerves as well.

I spoke to Jake earlier, about 8:00 or 9:00 PM to say good night. He was fine…having a good time. We didn’t even mention the iPod discussion. It was long over and forgotten.

I know why I was holding a cracked, broken iPad now. I don’t know why I would ever have dreamt that I would have strangled my son. Truth be told, I wanted to strangle Jill by the end of the night.

I woke up screaming, crying, inconsolable. I wake up this way at least once a week. I have vivid nightmares of semi-real life events. They alway end badly. I sobbed and yelled, “No, no, no, no…” so many times, I cannot count. I was coughing and throwing up. I was still asleep for the most part. After about 3-5 minutes, I started to realize that it wasn’t real….I had dreamt the whole thing. Then, I was truly a wreck because I cannot fathom that nightmare. I cannot wrap my head around the fact that I dreamt that I killed my son….and for a reason I cannot remember….not that there would ever even be a reason to kill one’s child.

It was 1:15 AM. I called Jake sobbing. I said I was sorry for waking him and I had a horrible nightmare and needed to hear his voice. He was fine. He said he was still awake…that he couldn’t sleep. I don’t believe that, just because he sounded like I woke him up. He kept telling me to calm down and he was okay. He knows about my nightmares. I calmed down a little. I told him to call me in the morning so I could come and get him as soon as possible. He said okay. I kept telling him over and over that I loved and missed him so much.

I can’t even see the computer screen as I write this. The tears and just running down my face…my voice is scratchy and I feel like I am getting a cold. I didn’t even put my glasses on, so there is probably more than a dozen typos in this story. This true story. I write my dreams down as soon as I wake up or I would never remember the detail. It would never be as raw as it is now. When I go back to sleep and wake up later and come to read this, just as I have done countless times before, I am dumbfounded. I can’t believe some of the things I have dreamt and the sadness or violence of them.

I don’t know what to do with this information….why would I have strangled my son to death in my dream? I am calmer now, but still upset and crying. I love my son so very much is physically hurts at times…..my heart aches.

I guess I will be Goggling dream meanings after this…..or do I even want to know?

The Definition of Insanity

Some people have been telling me that the definition of insanity is repeating the same action over and over and expecting a different outcome.
I looked it up and it is a valid statement.  In fact, it was Albert Einstein is responsible for that statement. He was also considered insane by most people…but then again, most geniuses are….. Lord Byron, an English Poet, Tycho Brahe, Danish Astronomer and also Michelangelo.
The definition of insanity, for me, is telling people how their life should be run and then they become angry when you choose how to live your life instead…..regardless of the outcome. One person’s definition of a “normal” lifestyle differs vastly from another’s.
So before you decide to tell someone that their choices are wrong, especially when it has no effect on your own life, think twice and do not judge. No one makes all the right choices. No one person’s life is better than anyone else’s life.
Once one realizes that repeating the same action will not get a different result, one has learned a valuable life lesson…..their own lesson, so leave them to it. There are no “I told you so’s” when you’re a grown up.
True grown ups do not say that to anyone. Grown ups recognize that we are not all going to make the same choices and we are not going to choose wisely, at times.
The truth is….we never stop growing up…..we keep learning from our mistakes and adjust accordingly. It is when we do not adjust that we are truly insane.

Back in Pennsylvania…

I slumped to the ground in a lifeless pile. The ground was so cold, so muddy. My fingers and hands that were so desperately trying to hold me up were buried in soggy cold, thick, wet dirt. The rain had not stopped all day. It was the type of rain that just kept coming and coming….no end in sight and pouring down. Every time I opened the door to see if  the guys had arrived, the rain was loud and insistent. I could see my breath outside on the back porch. I was wearing a white v-neck t-shirt and a long skirt….no shoes. The kids were inside playing video games and Ted was pacing nervously back and forth on the porch as he tried to put his best it’s-going-to-be-okay face on. It wasn’t working.

We knew something had happened. Something tragic, but we didn’t want to believe anything we read on the Internet. I only checked it twice and saw two news reports. I read only a little and closed them out….the computer was off from then on. I had a horrible sinking feeling of dread. I knew he did something really stupid this time.

I finally heard two bikes coming closer to the house. The sound was so faint, but I heard them. I had been listening for hours for that sound. I wanted to know what happened….the real story…… The bikes grew louder and louder until they finally arrived. It was Tom and Sam. They were wearing their usual jeans with their old worn in leather jackets. Tom had a cigarette hanging from his lips. He always had a cigarette hanging from his lips.

I stood on the porch, cold and barefoot, waiting for someone to say something. Ted was standing on the front steps, waiting just out of ear shot. They walked up to Ted so slowly that it seemed as if an hour had passed. They shook Ted’s hand. I couldn’t hear exactly what they said. I only saw tears and heads shaking.

Sam looked Ted dead in the eye and said, “I’m sorry man….there was nothing anyone could do.”

Ted walked back and forth on the porch while I just watched him. I gestured for Tom and Sam to go in, whispering there was coffee or beer. I still didn’t know exactly what had happened. I was afraid to ask Ted. I didn’t know if he was angry, upset or just completely distraught with grief. I kept looking over to him and he finally looked back at me.

“He was in a bad way”, he simply stated. His eyes were so welled up with tears that never fell. His head was tilted to the side slightly with a look that I ached for him. There was so much pain in his soft voice and crooked glance.

“No one could help him any longer. It just happened…..it had to happen sooner or later.” Ted said with a tremble. “He took a bunch of pills and wrecked his bike.” He went through the open sliding glass doors into the kitchen. I wanted to go and help him, console him….but I knew he wanted to be alone for a while.

On my way down to the mud I couldn’t control myself. I was inconsolable. I cried so hard my chest hurt. The kind of cry you had as a kid when you couldn’t catch your breath. My face down, struggling to catch the breath I could see right in front of me in this wicked rain….my hands grasping the mud, squishing through my fingers. I sat there in the yard getting drenched on the freezing ground. No one would know I was crying unless they heard me….the rain was sliding down my face…mascara running down with it.

I didn’t even like him. He had done so many awful things in the past two years to everyone who had tried to help him get on his feet again. The whole family talked about him taking pills, but no one ever confronted him. Everyone was great at that….talking about what was wrong with someone, expressing so much concern, but never doing a God-damned thing about it and then saying they couldn’t have done anything anyway. No one actually cared enough to sat anything….even myself.  Plausible deniability.

There was a certain look on Ted’s face. You cannot describe it….you only know it if you see it.

Guilt.

Guilt of never confronting him about the rumors of pills, erratic behavior and lies. Ted would never be the same after today. I knew it would be a long time for him to open up and talk about it, but I would wait. He would need me soon enough and I didn’t want to push him. He needed to feel the loss….face the pain….it was his only brother, after all.

Leonard was dead.

The Icy Chards of Truth

Truth Floats Downstream

“Sometimes, if you stand on the bottom rail of a bridge and lean over to watch the river slipping slowly away beneath you, you will suddenly know everything there is to be known.”~Winnie the Pooh

I went to his house. I hadn’t been there in four years. He
wasn’t expecting me. My sister came with me, but Ted refused to come in. He
stayed outside, in the cold, biting air with chards of glass floating down the
stream that flowed behind his home. Ted waded in the shivering coldness.

“It will feel even more cold inside of his home.”, Ted said.

She wouldn’t leave the kitchen. He never came when I rang the
doorbell. Peering through the fogged front, Alison had to open the heavy cherry
stained door. He still didn’t come.

I waited……and waited for which seemed like days, but only
seconds. He never wore shoes when he was at home. In a soft, cottony button
down shirt and khaki pants with dark blue socks…just as I had always
remembered, he strolled into the living room. 
He wasn’t excited to see me. He looked nervous, yet angry.

“What do you want now, Alex?”, he simply stated. 

“Why….. do I have to always want something to
visit?”, defensively I remarked. 

“You always have before…”…..And his words
seemed to trail off, but they weren’t his words. He would never say that to me.
He would have been so excited and melancholy if we had met in a parking lot,
but not at his home with her there. I could hear the dishes being thrown into
the dishwasher, but never enough to be broken. Everything was fine china, you
see. I could picture the dishes being broken in slow motion, like in the movie Titanic when the ship was sinking.

Only the best.

And I screamed over and over., “Why don’t you care if we
talk?”….”Why don’t you call your grandchildren? I have been lying
about you for years, saying you have been out of town, working, busy…anything
I could think of when Jakob asked. I have been trying to paint you and her in a
good light, but Jakob is not a little boy anymore. He’s smart and he knows.
What am I supposed to tell him?”

My screams turned to tears of anger and grief as I made my
way into the kitchen. He didn’t answer me and didn’t stop me from going.

“You callous, greedy bitch!”, I growled at her.
“You have no heart! Why am I protecting you? Why have I been lying for
you….YOU of all people? You were his grandmother for seven years and then….nothing! I told Jakob
the truth. I told him you were mad at me and I was sorry that he was caught in
the middle.” 

My tears stopped dead.

“I told him you were a cold, hard bitch who only thinks
of herself.” He knows what you are now. I have stopped trying to protect
him from the inevitable truth.”, I spewed toward her. She continued to
load the dishwasher ever so slowly….”He knows now…he knows….”, I softly trailed off as if in a Xanax induced daze.

My sister was dragging me away….”Stop Alex. They will
never change. It’s not worth it….it’s just not worth it….it just won’t matter”

“WOULD YOU STILL LOVE HIM IF HE WERE BROKE?!?”, I
screamed at her, so loud my voice scratched the inside of my throat.

“WOULD YOU STAY IF HE SUDDENLY LOST
EVERYTHING?”……”WOULD YOU STILL LOVE HIM IF HE WERE BROKE?”…..”ANSWER
ME!”…”ANSWER ME, YOU MANIPULATIVE CUNT!”, I spat at her….the
words falling on deaf ears….she never looked at me and never became angry.
She did as she always had.

She started to cry….the crocidile tears she had always shown for my father….  for my father to see yet again that I was the crazy one.

“You need to leave now, Alex.”, he said to me in a
monotone voice. “This is not the time.”

“When will be a good time for you,
dad?”….”Is there ever going to be a good time?”….I said to
him as I was leaving the cherry stained door for what I knew would be the last
time. 

My sister lead me out by my hand, yet holding me up. I said
everything I wanted to say. I didn’t want to, but I had to. If he would have
just been happy to see me. If he would have just, for once in his pathetic
marriage, stood up to her….but that day will never come.

We found Ted behind the house, lying in the cold water with
crystal clear ice surrounding him, sleeping. I was yelling, “What are you
doing?!?”….”You are going to freeze to death.” 

He stood up, dripping with icicles and asked, “How did everything go?” He was joyfully
optimistic. 

“As expected.” I robotically said….”As
expected.”

Post Navigation

%d bloggers like this: