Every time my sisters and I drew up our little dream houses side by side, there was always one drawn for you. We foolishly expected that you would be around forever. I remember when you used to bake with us, draw with us, teach us how to sew those adorable little mice with googly eyes. Remember when dad built the giant doll house? and you handmade all the furniture?
I knew so much love, we were whole, a family…but we all have expiry dates…
But you couldn’t wait for that. After dad left you had to pick up the pieces and it was unfair to you, but you were all we had then, but you couldn’t be bothered any more, and that was unfair to us. I don’t know if you didn’t want us because we were part of him or because we were a part of you. All those years you acted like we owed you the world, and we believed it, but it was you who should have given it to us, in the least your youngest. She can’t even remember a time when you cared. We were only kept as long as we were convenient for you, but there is only so much 3 kids can do for you. But it was never enough.
So now you sit alone pretending you’re happy while we get on with our lives, making families, loving and laughing and sharing.
But every now and again we cry for you and mourn you, because it’s much easier pretending you’re dead, than knowing you would rather be than see us.