Dear Baby

Dear Baby

You asked me— Where am I? And I don’t have much of an answer for you these days. These days I want you back. These days I’m glad you let me go. Let you go. 

You are demanding and funny. And you liked the water. But you were snarky about it too.
Like me, Like him.

I’ve said I’m sorry a thousand times. I just don’t know how to say it to myself. But it feels okay when you sit in my lap. Usually in the mornings. 

I wonder if you inherited our restlessness. A family of non-sleepers. A family of musical tinkerers. 

You’ve walked on. And I keep thinking of the sand that day. And how I kept falling asleep, waking up, falling asleep. Wondering if— you know.

And how I got in a fight with that seagull. I just needed someone to yell at. Silence’ll really kill you. More than this whole—

Ordeal? Event? “The Event!” I keep joking. “The Event of the Year!”  Maybe I’m crass, but I just remember that it was that cheekiness that got us all here. 

He calls me
I call you 

What now? You both wanted a different life for me. So. That’s that, isn’t it. I keep trying to walk on too. Leave these wet floors behind. But all this— We all got hurt. All got pushed somewhere else. So, see you when I see you. After I’ve stopped screaming so much. After I’ve stopped wailing so much. After I’ve stopped.
And started again.

I hope you’ll still come sit with me in the mornings.