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I’m having a lot of empty nights. It’s half past midnight, and once again, I’m awake, watching the rain pour and sparkle outside of my living room windows. I try to keep the tv on to drown out the crushing sound of loneliness, but it’s not the same, so I end up turning it off. It can’t replace the sound of the kids waking up for a glass of water, and it’s not Brenda snoring softly. I just have to be ok with the sounds of Ozzy (that’s my dog, btw), farting contentedly in his bed, dreaming about chasing rabbits or whatever; and me, alone with my thoughts. My doctor prescribed me Ambien to help with the insomnia but it only kinda works.
The final custody hearings are in a few days, and I’m scared. Brenda, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry for being away so much trying to provide for you, and giving you everything you could possibly want. Did I not give you enough? I wanted to be around more, and do you remember that we tried that? I tried working less hours, and things were fine for a month or two until you realized I wasn’t pulling in enough cash for you to uphold your lifestyle, and heaven forbid you get a part time job.
What can I give you, since my time or my money was good enough?
Whatever, you’ll never see this, like you would care to.
I miss you, though. I don’t want to life this life alone, even if life wouldn’t be perfect.
I hate sounding this depressed, but I’m so used to keeping on the cheerful act, and tonight, the mask is crumling. Clay is wired, Zeke. We use it to build homes, but it just falls down. Does clay melt in the rain? Brick doesn’t. Brick doesn’t even burn. Maybe my next house can be brick. And sand. Sand is just fun. I could have a bear cave with a fridge full of burgers and bunch of cool stuff and put in a big sand pit and use it like a garden. This is what dreams are made of.
Oh well time for bed.