Molly,
Molly Jane.

I never told him that was going to be your middle name,
He just knew he was going to name you Molly,
But I thought of you as Molly Jane.

You were going to be perfect.

We were going to be perfect.

You were going to have little ginger curls
And big hazel eyes,
And chubby legs,
And your father’s pout.

We were all going to love each other.

I never knew how we would make it work
But I knew we would love each other.

He didn’t.

He didn’t love me.

He loved the idea of us,
He loved wiping away a broken woman’s tears
And fixing her.
That was what he loved.

But Dillon,
Regardless of what I drunkenly slurred to my family tonight,
You’re no fool.
You knew in your gut you needed more than that,
And when you look inside yourself,
You know that’s all it was.
It wasn’t me you loved.
You loved being needed.
At least for a while...

I’m not a charity case.
You don’t get to be with me
Out of pity.

But I wanted you.

I’m a woman at war with myself,
Trying to recover from the whiplash you left me with.

All I know
In the pit of my stomach
Is you’re both gone.
Molly Jane,
And Dillon.