Please.

I want this anger to go away. I don’t want to have to look at this person and regret what passed between us. I don’t want to live with their words superimposed over everything I do, want to be able to look them in the eye again, but that remains to be seen. Some things are like red wine on white carpet-you clean up the best you can, but that stain is always there. Only time will tell.

Jack is not himself; he wanders around the apartment confused. Where is my brother? Sometimes he will go to the door and look at it and then look back at me accusingly. Where is my dad? Why am I here? I feel like shit and give him whatever he wants, ham, more trips outside, all the cuddles, but he doesn’t get it. He just wants the life he knew. I feel like a parent who’s just gotten divorced, trying to appease my child however I can. He hasn’t messed in the apartment as far as I know, though I feel terrible for barricading the kitchen with boxes while I’m at work. I came here on my lunch break to take him out and love on him, but he was shaking when I came home. I wish he understood me when I apologize. And I have. Numerous times, but I don’t know what else to do. Still, we’ve moved a lot. He will get used to it, as will I.

I shouldn’t have canceled my company for tonight.