I don't know how to blog about this.
I feel an overwhelming sense of obligation to document this. Well aware that this blog is for the kids. That they'll look back some day. That they'll want to know.
And I want to leave that trail, as best I can. Breadcrumbs of whys and hows. Something that shows them who we were, and not just what became of us. Something that might give them some sense of comfort or closure. Something more than knowing that they've become just another statistic.
"My parents split when I was 6."
Just another kid on another playground in America from another broken home. Times 2.
I don't know how to do this.
I don't know how to walk away from everything I've ever known. From everything I've fought so hard for. From everything I thought was real and true and right.
I don't know how to leave her. How to let her go. How to suddenly stop caring about whether or not she's eating. How to not reach out to hold her when she's sad. How to not want to crawl into the crook of her arms, to take in the smell of her neck, to feel her hair brush across my cheeks because the pain of her absence is just too much to even conceive and she's the one, SHE'S the one, who's supposed to take that pain away.
How the fuck do I do this? How do I stop trying? How do I stop worrying? How do I stop making it work...just enough...to get by...just one. more. day?