I’ve heard it said I’m being tested. haven’t I been tested enough? And what kind of test involves taking a father away from his children. 3 babies under 6. Are they being tested too? Are they even testable? Tell me how that makes sense.
The days and nights are an endless stream of mumbled moments. Sunday is meaningless. We would have taken them to a movie this weekend. We talked about it. We barely talked.
I have tried to find reasons to hate you so that the sting of your absence is lessened. You were a closed door I threw myself against until I gave up and became a closed door too. You kept everything you felt buried deep. It used to frighten me, then anger me, then came the great giving up. But you were justas broken as me, just in a different way. I am all nerves and no skin. You were 50 feet of steel.
Though distant, you anchored me. I am a tattered ribbon in the wind and you were the post I was tied too. Whatever chaos or insanity I felt was always tempered by your stoic reserve. You balanced me. Your silent strength was a reminder that this noisy mind can be quieted. You never judged me for any of it. You only tried to love it out of me, which is impossible.
What is more impossible is that you can be gone. Taken so swiftly from us. It’s as if you were an imagined thing that has started to fade with each passing day.