“Miguel are you okay, you seem quiet today. Usually we can’t smack that smile off your face.”
“Yeah, I’m just tired.” But I’m not. I try to be…..I know I have to be, for me, for the people that my smile actually brightens up their day. For my mom who is worried 24/7. For my sister, who I wish I was stronger for.. For my father, prove him that I haven’t failed. For my heart.
I stand here in this very place we used to call our home, and I hope today will be the day that I don’t have to cook dinner for one. I wait for the day when you walk in through the door and you say “Babe, I’m home.” And I give you a kiss and a hug because that’s my favorite part of the day. And I whisper in your ear, “I love you, Chango.”
I wait for the day, that I can open up a drawer, and it’s no longer empty and can see the bottom. That that drawer is over filling with your underwear and you yell out that you don’t have any underwear and that you need to go shopping for more.
I wait for the day when it doesn’t hurt any more. That when I breathe, I don’t feel a giant hole in my chest, and I feel like vomiting. When my heart doesn’t feel like it’s beating by itself. That it’s right there next to yours harmonizing. Or when I don’t have to miss you breathing heavily on my cheek and feel safe in my arms and I in yours?
I wait for the day, when this pain, these tears, this weakness, is replaced by laughter. I wait for the day when I no longer hear a change in my laughter. That you can see love in my eyes instead of a darkness that is so hard to get out of.
People say, “It’ll get better, It get’s easier.” And while that maybe true, it’s getting harder every single day for me. For how much longer does someone have to pretend that they are strong? When will this feeling of falling to the ground and giving up ever go away? When will I have to stop chocking back my tears and feel patronized for loving you?
I wait for the day when “Yeah, I’m just tired”, isn’t the lie that I have learned so well to master.