Wishes.

Wishing. I’m done wishing. I’m done waiting. I am mentally depleted and I’m just done.

It’s not fair that I’ve done everything that I can do right by my kids. That I’ve provided and exhausted myself in the process. It’s not fair that I’m the only adult here for them. I’m done waiting, wishing. I’m done being the only financially responsible party. Utility companies, landlords, daycare providers, doctors and grocery stores don’t wait and they don’t answer to wishes. Tears don’t dry themselves with wishes in an empty tissue box. Diapers don’t appear out of nowhere when I open the cabinet after wishing they would magically resupply themselves.

The world doesn’t thrive on unanswered wishes.

I wish the world were fair. That unfaithful spouses were the ones sitting alone sobbing into their pillows at 2 am. That absent parents were sat at tables in dark rooms with a single bulb dangling over their guilty heads as the questions the present parents are assaulted with are piped into the room at full volume.

It’s not FAIR. It’s inhumane and torturous to be the ones left behind. Yes, we are better off without that toxicity but we’re also left answering questions and wiping tears doing our best to not push our anger onto these babies.

Every fucking morning is Groundhog Day. Wake up, be responsible, sign the documents, sell my soul for groceries and other necessities, hold out some sort of hope that boyfriends will have perfect opportunities fall in their lap, that karma will sideswipe the guilty parties, bite my tongue, lather rinse and repeat.

I don’t get the opportunities to take mental breaks, so mental breakdowns steal perfectly sunny days instead. I don’t get to take much needed vacations, so I take an extra second to watch other families allow 5 more minutes of pool time while the days get shorter as does my patience.

I’m better off alone in a world where the children don’t know what betrayal is. Where they don’t know their father or anyone associated with him. That her and her children and their own fucked up daddy issues don’t exist. That space and time, distance and days are irrelevant. I’d like a penny for every wish, want and need that come to pass under this roof and a dollar for every year that falls.

I’m in a bad brain place. I’ll blame it on the moon since everyone else is.