"we will struggle
not the way people do
and you will hurt me
but not the way everyone else can
and you will love me
harder than anything I've ever known
and I will need you
it will be strong and terrifying
and I will listen
even if it's the sadde...
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naomi
"Now I'm left to wonder, how I let this go under How I could watch it rain for so long and ain't hear no thunder How we let all our Hollywood dreams end in a blunder How I may never see you again, I hate when the summer ends But it always would, and you'll always be disappointed 'Cause you're insecure Chasing things you thought you wanted Like you thought you could Just get further with frontin'"
Why am I so hard to love? Is something wrong with me? Why is it that everyone who I need to love me the most can turn their backs on me so easily?
I sat outside my moms salon for what felt like hours, but in reality was maybe 10 minutes before it started to rain. I kept telling myself I would go in and talk to her, but somehow my feet never made it out the cab, to the ground. I imagined her welcoming me with open arms, telling me how happy she was to see me and embracing me the same way she embraced Steph. But I quickly realized it wasn't going to happen like that. Watching her through the glass windows, laughing and going on with her life made me feel like somebody reached into my chest and ripped my heart out. Again. I'm sick of feeling this way.
I must be a masochist or something to keep putting myself through this. Seriously, I must like the pain.
She looked exactly how I remembered her as a baby. Exactly like the pictures. She was gorgeous. My dad wasn't lying when he would tell me that I looked just like her. She'd given me just about every feature on her face, and still looked me in mine and walked out of my life. It hurt and it burned. It pushed me over the edge into a full fledged breakdown and I was afraid of what I would do.
I had the cab rush back to the condo, and I spent the whole ride just trying to focus on CJ. I was sobbing uncontrollably, covering my mouth to keep from being too loud. When we got home, I shoved a hundred dollar bill in the drivers hand and I couldn't unbuckle my baby and get him upstairs fast enough.
"I'm so sorry...I'm so so sorry baby. Mommy's a fuck up." I tried to wipe the tears from my cheeks as I leaned over to lay him on his play mat in the living room, watching him stare up at me innocently. All I could do was be grateful that he was oblivious to what was going on. Before I did anything else, I fished my phone out the bottom of my school bag, because I needed to call the only person who I knew I could talk to about this. I dialed his number in a frenzy, putting it on speaker and laid on my back right next to my son, letting my hot tears spill into my ears.
the next day
"I was worried about you kid." My dad pulled me close to him, resting his chin on top my head as he embraced me. I sighed, finally relaxing into his chest, feeling the safest I'd felt in months. When I called him last night in a weepy panic, he was on the first flight to New York. No questions asked. "Tell me what's going on."
