It's August 25th.
Fifteen years ago, when Chelsea was just 13 and a half ,she was having her last hours on earth .It was a week away from her brother's 12th birthday and now he's gone, too.
For all intents and purposes Sean,also, is no longer with me.
Alcohol continues to make his choices as it weaves its toxic threads through all hope of reason.
We're moving on.

I don't want to wonder where he's going or why but I can't help it.
The mystery is young and painful. Saving my own life and being true to myself is unfamiliar territory for me and I can't afford a guide or any substance that might bring relief from focusing on what I've lost.
Why does the imagination always want to nestle in the negative? Aren't dreams bad enough?
I wish I'd arrived at this " surrender conclusion" before Eben died. I might have been more attentive and less insistent that he take greater responsibility for himself.
It's my nature to "baby" and debilitate. I should have kept it up 24/7
"until he died" just like he claimed I was obligated to do.
Who doesn't want that?
Someone to provide for our every need while we flit from whim to whim, desire to desire, daydream to daydream.
I swear- on both my childrens' AND my sister's graves- if I had such a
" sugar partner"- I would toss him a complimentary favor (is that redundant?) once in a while to , at least, make it look like I care.

At the height of her early-teen angst, I often asked Chelsea this question:
If you woke up and discovered that you were truly happy, what would it look like? Where would you be? With whom? What would you be wearing, doing, thinking?"

I wonder still, do we imagine in detail or in somewhats?
"Does anyone really know what time it is?" And what in the hell is a perfect scenario anyway? What is it that we think we want?
Here are just some of the things I've heard people say:
" I JUST WANT...
...a real partner."
...peace of mind."
... enough money to be comfortable"
...to find my fuckn car keys."
...a little more appreciation."
...a good night's sleep."
...this asshole to get out of my way."
...someone to consider my feelings."
...a car without visible duct tape.:
...something decent to wear"
...someone to cook for ME for a change."
...a little respect."
...a big bag of good weed."
...a clock that keeps the right time."
...someone I can count on."
...a little help around here."
...you to shut up."
...more time."
...the rain to stop."
....the pain to stop."
...more freedom."
...to know the truth."
...him/her to stop drinking."
...these kids to go to sleep."
...my dinner served HOT!"
...a raise."
...a vacation."
...to be left alone."
...a bigger dick / tits."
...a cheaper/better haircut."
...a divorce."
...my kid to learn to use the damn toilet."
...my baby to sleep through the night."
...one good reason for what you did/didn't do."
...to win the lottery."
...to be 20 years younger and know what I know today."
...a laptop."
...to be understood."
...one more chance."
...to be loved for who I am."

Well, who ARE you and how do you know what will make you happy?
If it's not here and now
it's there and never...........................CARPE DIEM, baby!

I have moments of hard sadness. Times when my breath stops and takes a bite out of  my throat. Times when memories of the good completely obscure the irreparable.
It is then, that our souls get tricked into believing the new girlfriend/boyfriend of the ex will be flawless and will win all the rewards we worked so hard for and deserve.
The ex will surely bring his/her best self to the picnic.
He/she will wow, woo and disarm with the same bullshit s(he) used on us
only this time it will be called manure.
She/he ( the new one) will, with a naive (ignorant,if you ask me) smile, squeeze from the ex every bit of adoration we were denied.

He is an asshole.
She is a stupid, needy ,wine sipping, scum sucking,morally vacant, unsuspecting, hedonistic, Pollyanna who doesn't know a Tsunami from a rainstorm....
but she is kind and attentive and doesn't give him any shit...YET .

There,of course, is no evidence of any of this.
But as I revel in my new status, completely disinterested in any future relationships, I (in my unique, keep-the-pain-laughing kind of way) ask you:

"How'm I doin?"