happy anniversary

a year has passed since my great sin.

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i wonder too often what she was thinking in her last moments.

clawing at the door, whimpering, drooling.

she hated me in those moments. how could she not?

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sessions with professionals telling me to sit with my pain.

hey bitch, i think i have that covered.

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i hate myself for what i did, and i don't think i will ever accept it. what did i do to my kids, my family, myself?

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i have told others:

you are not defined by one moment,

that this is not you,

that you can decide to change your entire identity in a single moment,

that there is nothing you can do about the past,

that we must choose to be the best version of ourselves right now, and that is all that matters.

well, tell that to her, i think.

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the new ones are great in their own way, don't get me wrong. but it is not the same, and will never will be.

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i thought about getting rid of the truck. i had it out of my house for a long period of time. i couldn't bear to look at the reminder of it. the floor mats where she took her last breath. there were white stains where her breath ran out, cooked. i had a trade in ready to go. i was told me to back out of it, that it made zero financial sense. i started driving it again reluctantly.

she used to ride everywhere with me in that truck together. one of her claws tore into my center counsel and left a gash. everytime i drive now, i put my finger on it and remind myself: of memories of her, of the pain that i deserve. you killed your own friend, you piece of shit.

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her name came from the state motto of kansas: to the stars, through hardships.

i have the latter part down and will sit with that for now. i tell myself that i don't deserve the former.

——

i am so sorry.