Over it

Over It

Why did Dad leave? That question repeats itself. Hammering it to the inside walls of my head. I try to keep it bottled up but it comes backs. Crack! Slap to the face. Will I ever know the answer?

Stone daggers go to my glass heart. I hear dad press end call. Time to wait another week. My plastic wings aren't getting you where you need to be dad. Here. Home with me and mom. I am a feather being blown in the wind. Your calls are roses but when they end they are thorns.

Mom tries to be strong but her words are transparent. She knows she’s hitting a brick wall with sand. The conversation is getting us nowhere. Maybe it was my fault Dad. Maybe I'm the reason you took your wedding band off your hand, broke those vows, and flushed them both down the porcelain toilet. Ruby beads of blood roll off the severed arms of our perfect family.

I had dreamt. I dreamt that you came walking out of the woods a smile on your face. You had emerald pearls for mom and a hug for me. You said “I am so sorry. This was all a mistake.” Then... I wake up. I realize this is reality! You’re not going to come back. I am done wishing. I’m done lying to myself. You know what Dad? I’m not crying anymore. I have grown strong. A rock. I have moved on. Just like you.