Diary
Page Four
She tied her own shoes today. She did it three times for my father and me. She beamed happily, but the smile faded as soon as a car passed through the open curtain window. Her poor face was devastated that it was a rusted impala, rather than a dark blue Dodge. I tried to encourage her to tie her shoes again, but she just sat next to my dad, kicked her shoes off, and watched Spongeboob, or whatever.
Can you feel it? Can you taste it? Sense it? Anything at all?
The pain your first child is going through? Roxy Way is hurting?
Do you remember what you said to me when you left the diner that night? The way you placed your words together as I adjust the greasy ‘Hello I’m Valleri Way, your waitress’ tag on my dirty button up? The way I ignored your threats, and didn’t believe a word? After 8 years of marriage, it was over.
That’s what you said.
Of course, being dumb, ignorant, and hearing this for the umpteenth time, I didn’t believe a word. Just for the record, I was still in love with you. Even when I got home and saw my father slumped on the couch, Roxy in her bed, all of ‘our’ things gone, I still loved you. After they foreclosed on our home, I still had a tiny bit of love left. When your mother told me you were with her, the love died.
Today, we went to the library. It’s free, and Roxy likes to read to my dad. We had to walk because I didn’t have enough for the bus, and you have the Dodge. I let Roxy check out 2 books, as a gift, I guess, while I went and looked at the fish tanks. I have no desire to read anymore. I don’t need to, I’m 28, 6 months pregnant, and work at a diner. I don’t need a fancy book to escape my life, I have burnt scabs for that.
An elderly woman suggested I get a baby naming book. I declined nicely, since I’m not keep this one. This poor little Way. I decided it last night. I have no funds, no time, and no food for an infant. I don’t need a tiny Way to bring up into this world, as fucked up as it is. Maybe I’ll find he or she one day, maybe they’ll hate me as much as I hate myself, hopefully they’ll hate you more Gerard Arthur Way.
Maybe they won’t, but I will continue to hate you until my heart gives out. I’m through with asking why, I’m just wondering when. When this’ll all end, when Roxy will be happy and smile, naturally, again, when my father passes and he has my mother to hold. Well, maybe not, my mother committed suicide, and by Catholic standards, that’s a sweet ride to hell. Maybe he’ll find a nice dating service in Heaven, like eHarmony for angels.
I have to go, Roxy wants to read Rainbow Fish and Goodnight Moon.
Can you feel it? Can you taste it? Sense it? Anything at all?
The pain your first child is going through? Roxy Way is hurting?
Do you remember what you said to me when you left the diner that night? The way you placed your words together as I adjust the greasy ‘Hello I’m Valleri Way, your waitress’ tag on my dirty button up? The way I ignored your threats, and didn’t believe a word? After 8 years of marriage, it was over.
That’s what you said.
Of course, being dumb, ignorant, and hearing this for the umpteenth time, I didn’t believe a word. Just for the record, I was still in love with you. Even when I got home and saw my father slumped on the couch, Roxy in her bed, all of ‘our’ things gone, I still loved you. After they foreclosed on our home, I still had a tiny bit of love left. When your mother told me you were with her, the love died.
Today, we went to the library. It’s free, and Roxy likes to read to my dad. We had to walk because I didn’t have enough for the bus, and you have the Dodge. I let Roxy check out 2 books, as a gift, I guess, while I went and looked at the fish tanks. I have no desire to read anymore. I don’t need to, I’m 28, 6 months pregnant, and work at a diner. I don’t need a fancy book to escape my life, I have burnt scabs for that.
An elderly woman suggested I get a baby naming book. I declined nicely, since I’m not keep this one. This poor little Way. I decided it last night. I have no funds, no time, and no food for an infant. I don’t need a tiny Way to bring up into this world, as fucked up as it is. Maybe I’ll find he or she one day, maybe they’ll hate me as much as I hate myself, hopefully they’ll hate you more Gerard Arthur Way.
Maybe they won’t, but I will continue to hate you until my heart gives out. I’m through with asking why, I’m just wondering when. When this’ll all end, when Roxy will be happy and smile, naturally, again, when my father passes and he has my mother to hold. Well, maybe not, my mother committed suicide, and by Catholic standards, that’s a sweet ride to hell. Maybe he’ll find a nice dating service in Heaven, like eHarmony for angels.
I have to go, Roxy wants to read Rainbow Fish and Goodnight Moon.