Some Days.....

Some days are just too much.

It doesn't seem to matter how hard I strive, how determined I am. Life gives no fucks. I've struggled for years and the fact is that life is just too damn much.

"They" say there is no harm in asking for help from others. Yet, there is. Asking for help makes you vulnerable because when no one shows up to help (or worse says they will but never does), it's a big neon flashing sign screaming "YOU'RE ON YOUR OWN".

I've been fighting like hell to keep moving, to keep going. Every step I accomplish forward, life hits me back another ten feet. I can't even come up with a plan that even remotely appears to move forward.

I am alone. I go through these periods where I convince myself that I'm not alone. That there are people who care enough about me that they'd willingly help me as much as I strive to help them.

Yet, it never really works out that way. It seems my life has been a series of me doing for others and there not being anyone around when I need them.

I am so overwhelmed. There is no one to talk to. I've asked help from those I could and the result was they were no longer around. Or they keep stringing me along telling me they'll come at some future date to help.

Fuck this world. Fuck everyone in it.

Just for today, I wish the damn planet would just implode.

Thanksgiving Blues

Last year I was driving back from Atlanta, having dropped off my best friend at the hospital for more tests and procedures. Normally I stayed there with her, but my children needed me home. With all her treatments and tests, I'd hardly seen them. Her old college friends were in Atlanta and she'd spend the holidays with them. I was coming home to my kids.... and to you.

Traffic was hell and I ran so late. There would be no Thanksgiving dinner. I wouldn't even get home until after everyone's bed time. I wouldn't get to pick up my son's from the sitter. Only my daughter would be home waiting for me.

I called you in tears. You told me to stop by your Mom's on the way home. You said that there was plenty of food. I'd never met your mother or anyone outside of your children. You're mom's was only a half hour round trip out of the way and an hour and half before I'd get home.

I told you I'd come because I was so tired and hungry that I didn't think I'd make it home if I didn't stop for a break to eat.

I really came because I needed you. I needed to feel you're presence. You never touched me, yet you always felt like home. I needed you to tell me everything was going to be all right. I needed to see your smile and that look in your eyes that you got when you were worried about me. I needed to smile back and tell you that I'd be ok. That I was ok. Somehow always telling you that I was ok made me feel stronger.

I was so tapped out I didn't want to meet anyone new. I was wearing leggings and a sweatshirt so that I'd be comfortable for the long car ride. My hair was pulled back with sunglasses and the bags under my eyes showed the hours I'd logged driving. I'd left my house at 2am, and here we were at 9pm.

Yet, the minute I pulled up and saw you, everything was OK. You walked me in and sat me down at a table away from everyone. Then, your mother dove in. She was all the things a mother should be. Comforting, understanding, supportive. She made me a plate and then made a plate for me to take home to my daughter.

Do you remember that night? Your daughter was in the kitchen talking to other family across the bar. I heard her clearly say, "No, they're just BFFs" as you walked into the kitchen to get me something to drink. "Right Dad? You and her are just BFFs?" You replied something I couldn't hear and I heard her say, "Yeah, just BFFs".

Your mom told me later that she knew that night that you and I would end up together. She said that I was good for you. That she could see how much I loved you. She told me you could be difficult but that you were a good man.

Here we are, a year later. I don't know if you love me or if you ever did. You're no longer my best friend and there are no more trips to Atlanta because the cancer finally won and my other best friend is gone. I told myself my health issues were too intense to cook Thanksgiving today but the truth is that this Thanksgiving is too painful. This Thanksgiving I look around my life and realize my two best friends are gone. I've spent most of my life without best friends. I've been ok with that. Yet, I had two for a short time and felt less alone than I'd ever felt in my life. Somehow that makes today feel more alone than ever.

This Thanksgiving I'm sitting here at a computer, typing these words as tears stream down my face. I ache to go back in time just for a brief moment, to a time when my two best friends were in my life. To that time when I thought I was strong, loved, and able to conquer anything life threw at me.

I miss you.

I miss her.

This Thanksgiving sucks.