I Didn’t Say Goodbye
I packed my bags and left for college without as much as one look behind. I couldn’t wait to live on my own, do what I want, and be done with my small hometown.
I lived with roommates, went to parties and came back in the morning, nobody waiting up for me. Wolfed down a bag of chips and a chocolate bar over the sink and called it dinner, nobody’s disapproval to worry about.
I graduated, married, started a family. My own home, my own things, my own rules, everything just the way I wanted. Sleepless nights worrying about next month’s mortgage, somersaulting thoughts about meal plans, school drop offs, health check ups, the chores that never end, the frown lines on my forehead that never straighten out.
No time to THINK, to make sense. Where am I going? What am I even doing? Is this enough, am I enough? Am I even a good mother? Who am I anymore?
The question marks floating around in my vision even when I close my eyes. The face in the mirror every morning always a haggard stranger.
Who do I talk to? I don’t want this. I want to quit and just play for a while. I want to go back to before.
I packed my bags and left for college without saying goodbye. Without knowing that was the last day I’d ever get to be a child. The last day I’d spend without having to worry about making a living, without the burden of caring for others. Someone to care for ME. A deep, uninterrupted night’s sleep.
Paired Listening
From the Five Part Body Playlist
