Another day

I'm the biggest fucking loser on the planet at this moment. As I close the door and step inside, my guts are churning. Just stepping inside tears me up. What should be the easiest thing in the world has become like a knife in my guts. The goodbyes get harder every time. 

Little boys shouldn't cry so much. Little boys should be happy-go-lucky, tough as spit, and ready to take on the world. Every car ride shouldn't be so sad. I shouldn't hear him wailing as his mom pulls away. Will this ever get easier? I don't know if I'm making it harder or easier by walking away, but it hurts like hell every time. 

Give it time, I hear. Tell him it's okay to be sad. Tell him he can be happy for the time we had together. Call me tonight. We can talk about your day. Oh, hell. 

I've lost all. I sit in solitude, and the tears won't even come anymore. I'll schedule my tears for tomorrow when I have tears to give. I'm all out today. I went to sleep crying and woke up crying and cried in the middle of the night. I was a ghost today; I don't remember a thing. Somewhere in there I ate some food and did some homework and listened to music. 

When will things get easier? Is it a lie we believe in that things will get easier? What should be easy -- keeping a smile on that little boy's face -- has become so hard. He shouldn't have to ask when he'll see his dad again. He's so strong most of the time, but today was not one of those times. 

We tore apart stumps today, just like we did last Saturday. His dad toppled many dead trees. He cried when his thumb bled, and ten seconds later forgot about it. We looked at the homes he built for ants, fixed some, and declared others a total loss. I carried him to the car because he was all out of gas. 

Maybe tomorrow we'll do it again. Maybe it will have to wait until next week. All I know is it shouldn't be like this. I was the first person he locked eyes with, the one who carried him up and down numberless hills and vales, listening to his voice grow stronger with every passing day. I showed him so many things for the first time. When we took him to the babysitter for the first time, he sat by the door and wailed for his dada to come. All I wanted was to be in his life; this isn't my choice. I'm so sorry. I'll be there someday. I promise. Until then, I'm just a phone call away.

All I can tell him is I'm in his heart. He'll have me with him always. And then I step away and the pain comes down like rain. I'll hold you another day, my son. We'll walk into the forest or into the sun and we'll pretend no time at all passed since we last saw each other. Those stumps don't stand a chance.