I don't want to admit it but my ties to my son are gone. He doesn't want me in his life. I know he loves me but that's more and more like an idea. My daughter has let go. She loves me too. It's too painful for her. It's probably too hard for Kian too. The only strings left are Princess and memories. I am still tied to liking my wall of photos, but at some point I need to take it all down and pack it up for them to have.
I want to give away a lot of things. I have given up any idea that I could make money anymore. I may or may not sell books but the rest, if it doesn't hold meaning for me now, I want it all gone. It's hard to pull off getting everything out of here, I probably won't. But it would be better to leave less junk for my kids.
I write this now, because I am still not close enough so I can say it and keep at a distance. But I see this horrible thought inside that says .... now that I am gone are you wishing I wasn't or are you relieved as I am that I am no longer here ... Part of me wants to be angry, wants to yell out .. I told you the truth but I never spoke the truth about knowing that I do not matter ... Yes I am one of those people who wants to be found, wants someone to want to find me enough to look ... I would loved to have asked Phil ... Do you know why people walk away from me, because I know you know? ... I might ask him. I might not.
How do you ever know that today is the day before the last day ... Christie wrote that beautiful song where she never takes that final step ... but that's not real ... that's how she hope it is. Nothing is like the songs or the movies, sooner or later I will let go and stop grasping onto the past or attempt to pull on the good in my life.
The only thing that would keep me going would be my mother needing me. (Well ... being wanted but that's so not real) But I think my father has more years left than I do.I could be wrong.
Sometimes I imagine walking away from the house and everything and living out of my car, and just seeing if being out free and unattached would bring life into me... but that's a dream, a fantasy.
I suppose I should explain to Christie why I leave that money alone, untouched ... it's my last straw, taking it means there are no more possibilities ... everything is gone. You can't fault me for holding onto hope... I can but you can't ... this swirling spiral into a black hole of nothingness is a horrible way to live until you don't.
I have imagined asking Ellen for help ... but I know I won't ... I hope my children can use this horrible exposure of depression to make their lives better ... I don't care how ... I almost don't care that anyone ever knows. That's still a string.
The lie .. It doesn't get better .... sure it does for some, but not for so many others. We don't want to know that. We deny it by stories of those who overcome adversity ... no one truly wants to look into the abyss of nothing, silence, alone.
Sometimes on that car trip I imagine ending up on a beach and swimming out to where all I can see is water and where I can be at peace ... I know the moment before I will struggle, but then I will be finally be at peace.
I told Rosalind years ago what I saw when I looked within me ... before I was even divorced, I saw nothing.
What am I? I do not exist ... I am a story that is boring, that people just want to turn off. If only a mere whisper... even if not noticed then or remember when .... if only a mere whisper ...
Like a candle snuffed, the smoke lingers for time and then it is not... I do not matter ...
With Princess sleeping by my side, I can see the truth and still stay tied ... I am just a whine.
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