Tonight Is One

There are the nights when I can't sleep- my chest too tight and my throat threatening to close up shop.  The smallest memory brings it on- just her smile or the thought of the two of us doubled over in laughter, as we so often were.  I see her often in my mind, waiting with Jake at the window, watching for my car to pull into the driveway after work.

 Usually smiling before I could see them, I'd coax the car over the bricks- bounce, bounce, bounce- and then turn my head to the right, searching the windows for the sight of their well-loved faces pressed to the glass.  One or both would begin waving wildly, and more often than not they would both jump up and down.

 No matter what sort of day I'd had out in the world, coming home to my babies was the best part of it.  Sometimes it wasn't easy- being a parent isn't all fun and games- but I knew I was where I belonged, and that as long as those two beautiful souls were smiling to see me approach, I was doing a lot of things right.

It is hard to live in this house.  I see her everywhere.  I hate pulling in the driveway after work.  I hate the road.  I fantasize about blowing it up one day- that stretch on which I ran to get to her and the part where she landed after the driver struck her.  Prison time might just be worth seeing the whole stupid thing just going up in a huge fireball, pieces of concrete and asphalt falling like rain.  Maybe the yellow line could end up embedded on someone else, like the paint from the driver's car ended up embedded on...things.

But most of all, it is hard to believe that this has actually happened- that she is dead and in the ground.  How can this possibly be?  Two years later, and I still don't have the faintest idea, nor does my heart believe it's true.  Not Cory.  Not my girl.  Not my cherished one.

There are those nights where I can almost sense she's about to creak open my bedroom door and come in, complaining that she can't sleep, that the voices won't be quiet.  Tonight is one.

I watch the door with my breath held and listen so carefully.  It never opens.

Acceptance, I abhor you.  You are a heartless bastard.