I pray you become strong
But the world never makes you hard.
I pray you know joy
But also sadness and pain.
I pray you always speak the truth
But that you can recognize when to bite your tongue.
I pray you know how to lose
But also that you win gracefully.
I pray you have a wild soul
But always stay grounded
Finally I pray you know you are loved
Even through the storms.

When she asks about me,
Tell her everything, let the truth break, yet simultaneously heal her.
Tell her how I stayed too long, and gave you too many chances.
Tell her how I stayed up at night  painting all your red flags white, hoping to parley, but always surrendering.
Tell her about the night we met, and the last goodbye.
Tell her everything you never told me, why you stayed so long, but left so quickly.

Remember
That park we went to
The first month
We had met?
I walked through it yesterday,
It still smelled like you.

Six chairs sat around a table, just another mundane family dinner filled with the sound of clinking forks and arbitrary questions.
Nothing could have prepared them for the secret the youngest boy would spew out of his mouth. His little sister stares,mouth agape, for it wasn’t his secret to tell it was hers.
Forks hit ceramic plates, questions and phone calls ensue, “a seven year old doesn’t make this up” cries her mother.
The little girl in the sixth chair, sits with the world buzzing around her, somehow relieved and heavy at the same time.

They say a drunk mans words are a sober mans thoughts. Is that why you don’t drink? So you can protect the secrets you cling to like a rollercoaster to its tracks.
What if you pressed that bottle to your lips, and let the fire of your throat consume you, would you tell me you can’t stop loving me, or would you tell me I was a mistake and you wish you never met me?  Either way maybe I’d finally know the truth and whether it was safe to finally stop loving you.

The morning light shines through the window as the aroma of coffee fills the air.
He saunters in as she butters his morning toast. Their eyes meet, hers filled with innocence and love, his filled with secrets and tears. I’m sorry he begins as she sets his plate in front of him. The world seems to disappear as her head spins like a merry go round. She sits down at the table, he reaches across and grabs her hand, as she becomes paralyzed by shock and betrayal, unable to pull away she sits in silence, as hot tears fall and the coffee goes cold.

Another night, another drive. She fills the tank and presses her foot to the gas pedal, she doesn’t know where she’s going, she never does.
She follows the curves of the road, when she can feel the hot tears on her face, she turns the volume dial down, and lets the voices in her head escape, she doesn’t know who she’s talking to; maybe God, maybe herself, maybe just the universe.
When the chaos of her mind clears and her cheeks dry. She turns the volume dial back up, and heads home, knowing it’s only a matter of time until the road calls her back for another drive.