if I'm lucky enough to have a daughter
you better believe that when I promise her that "This'll all get better,"
that it will

I will not say "I do" twenty-one years prior to this December and walk away on October fifth
and if for some reason I happen to see that maybe leaving is the right choice for my daughter and my husband

I will say goodbye and I will say "I'm sorry,"
I won't let my pride get in the way of my daughter's feelings
because nothing hurts more than someone who is a little too proud to admit they know they're hurting their child

a slap in the face hurts too; that's what this is
this isn't a stab in the back
because you don't see those coming
I saw this coming
and I wasn't able to reach my hand up in time to shield my face

to shield my heart

and Dad, I was hoping that when you held my hand when I was little
that same hand holding would carry on into my adult hood
that holding me would turn into shielding me
but your hands that were a shield became narrow, sharp, and pointed
and sliced a wound through my heart

"Keep your hands away from the knife while I'm cutting the food, sweetie"
you'd say to me
I didn't know at this point that I actually needed to stay away from you in order to not get hurt

but the coloring books and teaparties and pinky promises when I was little gave me a false sense of trust
a trust that was lost on October fifth

my trust was replaced with invisible scars on my face, my hands, my brain
my heart

but I'll pinky promise this to you
if I'm lucky enough to have a daughter
you better believe that when I promise her that "This'll all get better"
that it will
and I will help it get better for her

because giving someone something you never had is better than any coloring book or teaparty or pinky promise

if happiness was rain I'd live in Seattle
no matter how pale the days become
drenched in pollution and smog
the rain would wash it away and highlight the bright colors of my rain boots
splosh splosh splosh as I walk through the busy streets
and since its raining I'll be sheltered with an umbrella
it'll act as a shield, as if I was a knight in Renaissance days
maybe not a knight exactly, but the days and nights might get confused with the lack of sunshine
but I find I work best when I'm a little confused
because being confused gives me an excuse to sit down and think things out
and when things don't work out, I can go out and buy a new pair of rain boots
there are few things shopping can't fix
but when I don't have the money or energy to go shopping
I do have the rain
which sadly, is a reminder that nothing lasts forever
because on a random Tuesday the sun will peak out from behind the clouds and take place of my bright rain boots

click clack clack as I walk through the busy streets
no rain boots, no shield
just myself and the sun
and the slight sun burn from that day will remind me throughout the week when rain is falling that all things, good or bad, leave scars

the pink on my cheeks from the sun and my shriveled up fingers from the rain tell me that I can't shield myself from everything

some days I'll get caught in the rain without my umbrella
and other days the sun will catch me off guard, leaving my cheeks flushed for days;
letting me know that yes
if rain was happiness I'd live in Seattle
but Seattle rain isn't a constant

sometimes your cheeks need to feel burned to remember how nice it is to be drenched in happiness almost every day

slowly the seasons change
it happens like how one song changes to another
there's a pause and everything is still
and in that moment you can look around and see how beautiful that last song was, like all the other last songs you've  had
but you're anticipating the next song with eagerness building in your stomach

butterflies
butterflies not only in your stomach but butterflies in the air, butterflies on the grass which is now green
the next song starts and you forget about the previous song-well, only until the next pause between songs occurs
your playlist of seasons on repeat is titled "Life"

and you think maybe there should be more than four seasons
because four songs, four times isn't often enough to look back on how beautiful butterflies really are
colors will soon fade out, just like the song you're currently listening to
with the playlist you're making your way through, the seasons do in fact feel like only three and a half minutes long

I imagined it to be like when you were five and scared of the dark
you wanted to be brave, to turn out the light and go to sleep
but you also wanted to run away from the monster in the dark
but this time
the monster was inside you
and not only a monster possessed your being, but chemicals and sadness and fears too

and it's not a case of "curiosity killed the cat" here
because this wasn't your wrongdoing
you were merely diagnosed with that C word that's hard to say
no, not curiosity, with five syllables that proves easier to say than two- which leaves doctors baffled

but you fought on
kind of like the princess-turned-ninja you pretended to be at seven
and eventually that C word ran away, and took its curiosity with it
and it didn't **** the cat at sixteen

if I should ever leave this town
I'll never change my ways to fit the plan of success
but rather use success as Play-Doh and mold it into what I want it to be
beautiful like the sea with wild waves crashing along with shores
or silent like the moon; forever following the earth with loyalty
forever holding the hands of the ones I love
never changing no matter who discovers me
no matter how many small steps for man or giant leaps for mankind may happen to occur upon the crevices of my very being
I will not crumble under those who try to walk all over me
but I will walk with confidence
and confide in those whom I love my deepest secrets
making sure that they become my diary
and "dear diary," I will say
and they will remain dear to my heart because I will end with "love always"
and always "diary" will now be synonymous for rock
for they will be the rocks I lean on when I’m stuck in a hard place
and when they're stuck in the grand canyon
I’ll be the rocks they'll grab on to, to climb to the top
and also the rope to pull them up when their hands slip
because you can only hold on to so much at one time
and I’ll also act as a backpack
and carry as much for them as I can
I’ll always have their back
because nobody has eyes on the back of their head to see what’s coming your way when you're not looking
a sort of "night vision" goggles for life
for the evils that they can't see
evil vision goggles for evils trying to evade into the molding of their very own success
and "dear diary" I will say if I happen to fail
maybe the Play-Doh was left out too long and dried up before the success was built
but sometimes tears can wash away the sadness, or bring back life to your Play-Doh
so it’s okay to fail and let your plans turn ever so frail
because you can be like the moon: loyal and quiet
but you can be like the sea too
you can reach for the shore again and again, trying to grasp your dreams with hands like liquid, salty from tears
and this can happen over and over until a strong wind or an earthquake in your soul erupts causing you to gain strength and take the world by storm
proving that you are more than a just follower
but you will still always follow your dreams