The Kids Grew
The kids grew. And had kids of our own. We created something great. A little community. Full of good times. Like the summer when our babies were still babies and the moms took lead on the drinking, laughing, and frolicking. The dads sat toddler-side, for that one summer, for once goddamnit. Or the time we decided to streak the neighborhood, fresh stretch marks and all, because we were just so damned happy to be together. And ever so happy to laugh together as we tried to hold our weak bladders. Weak bladders are hilarious. Especially when one of us leaked into a tissue box. That’s how it was. For years. As others came and went, there we were. Held together by the ages of our kids, and our shared view of the schoolyard. By our political values and attachment to the dream. Each child of mine, so close in age to yours. We celebrated everything. Every holiday and birthday. Everything.
The kids grew. And so did our differences. My career. Your tennis game. My husband’s irritation. Your husband’s paycheck. My resentment and disdain. Your fear of what is hard. It swept over us. I wondered why you didn’t see it. Why you didn’t stop it. That’s not you. Not one to question or resist. That’s not me. I question. I resist. I left. I left that irritated husband. You left too. With your ghosting and your avoidance. You are done with me. I didn’t have to hear it to know it. I just know it. I am too much for you. Too honest. Too vulnerable. Too expressive. Too much writing.
The kids grew. And it seems that I did too. I needed your final dismissal to finally see it. To see that you had not held me as tightly as I thought you did. To see that I was one of the ones who came and went. I never thought it would end. Not like this. Not ever. I never thought I would ever, in my right mind, feel relief when someone rejected me. Especially not you. Someone I cared for and admired. Someone I loved and laughed with. But it’s long ago now that we had those summertimes. Oh, how I held you in my heart and in my mind. In there with my kids and my joy. With my memories of watching the kids grow. But the kids are grown now.
The kids grew. And so did we. Apart.