Confessions

"If I'm gonna tell it then I gotta tell it all"

- Usher

Dear Lorenzo,

It's Friday, 8:59 p.m. and I'm home, watching The Goldbergs, while Amira sleeps peacefully beside me. The fact that she's fallen asleep before 9 p.m. on a weekend is a BAD sign. Earlier this evening she was complaining that both her throat and stomach hurt so I PRAY this child is not getting sick. Especially since I just spent money I DO NOT HAVE to take her and five of her closest friends to Sky High Trampoline Park tomorrow to celebrate her tenth birthday.

Lorenzo, our daughter is ten years old.

Gone is our squeaky-voiced baby girl; Amira is now an overly-emotional, pre-pubescent nightmare of a ten year old.

God help me.

But I will never forget the day we brought her home from the hospital. We laid our precious angel on the bed between us, thanked God for gifting us this treasure, took one look at each other and began to cry. We were so happy in that moment. We were a family; our lives were finally complete.

I wish it had really been that simple.

Somehow, our happily ever after didn't quite turn out the way we'd planned. We fought...a lot. The first year of Amira's life was brutal for you and I. I was going through some serious postpartum depression and you were left wondering what the fuck had happened to the girl you fell in love with. I don't think we ever fully recovered from that year. We loved each other, of course, but...in my heart, I know I didn't make you as happy as I could have, as you deserved to be. I was so wrapped up in being Amira's mother that on many, MANY an occassion, I forgot to be your woman.

I'm sorry, Babe.

I know you knew how much I loved you, but I wish to God I'd done a better job of showing it. I wish we'd done a better job of prioritizing US and spent more time alone together as a couple, instead of just Amira's parents. In the end, I don't know how happy you were with me and that breaks my fucking heart because I really did love you, even when I didn't show it, even when I was an asshole, or you were...you were still the love of my life. I miss you, Lorenzo. I wish I didn't have to remind myself EVERY FUCKING DAY that you're gone, that you're never coming back and that I have to move on with my life. You were right, life feels pretty fucking empty without a partner to share it with. I wish we could have another chance at this thing, I wish I didn't have to start all over again at 44 years old. I wish my life could be bigger than just parenting, working part-time and watching repeats of The Goldbergs to pass the time. I wish I weren't so fucking lonely all the time.

I wish I could figure out just what the hell I'm supposed to do with myself now.