It was one of the hottest Decembers I can remember.
I woke up on Christmas morning,
and you as usual where not there.
I had woken up with a mixture of anxiety and depression.
I knew in my heart I was only counting down the seconds, minutes, hours, for you to disappoint me.
If there has ever been one thing that you have never disappointed me in, its been in your ability to disappoint me.
I thought this Christmas would be a very special one. But you had other plans.
I waited diligently for you to make an appearance. My bangs stuck to my forehead with sweat. I can’t remember now if it was like that because I was physically hot or if I was simply that nervous that I was sweating so much. I get lost in the details.
I remember looking down on you as you approached my gate. I remember looking deeply into your eyes and seeing the superficial glaze of happiness that only a heavy night of drug use can do for you.
My heart sank with disappointment almost immediately. I was flying as I watched you walk up to me, and the moment you got close enough, I looked into your eyes and I saw the true nature of the state you had dared to approach me in, and it was like getting shot down mid flight. A feeling I had grown to be so familiar with, you would think it wouldn’t even hurt anymore, but it did.
Your disregard for the sanctity of this occasion floored me. It wasn’t even about the fact that it was Christmas day. THIS particular Christmas should have meant so much to you. but it didn’t. It shattered me that you could treat such an occasion with such little respect.
Well, at least you showed up. I have to give you points for THAT I suppose.
It was then when I knew.
I knew you were never going to grow up. I knew you couldn’t ever find happiness in this little miracle I had created for you. I knew then that “WE” were simply never going to be enough. You chased something I simply didn’t have for you.
An escape from reality.
I was all too real.
I was simply too much reality for you, and you hated me for it.
You hated me for wanting better.
You hated me for wanting to build.
You hated me for putting something that was more important than your wants before you.
You hated me for having priorities.
It was on this day, as I observed you in disgust, inebriated and foolish, on the floor making a complete ass of yourself, that I knew. Something had to happen and it had to happen quickly.
I still had hope then. I thought you could be fixed.
What I failed to realize at that time was that YOU were not broken. Not in your perspective anyways. You were only broken in my eyes. I saw a problem that needed fixing. But if you didn’t see that problem within YOURSELF, then what power could I possibly have had to mend you? If you couldn’t see it, if you chose to ignore it, if you truly believed that the problem was not within you, but with the world, then how could I have ever made you see otherwise?
It was at this moment I knew. That I was powerless.