I am the quintessential Old Lady. I’ll never be your wife, or your girl, much less the love of your life.
We stayed up three days straight, drunk and drugged. Over and over.
Nobody talks shit about you without my permission. I know all of your secrets and whatever they are saying is much more boring than the truth.
Because I was there.
I was there when you kissed me in the walk-in freezer. When you wouldn’t answer my calls so I had an abortion. When we almost died. When you were arrested.
I was there the only day you ever apologized to me. It made our newborn son smile in his first picture.
I was there at the doctors office scared for you. Filling out all of the papers to make sure you are okay forever after all of the doctor visits.
I was there, 8 months pregnant and holding a baby at the psych ward crying for you. I was there, driving full speed when you texted you were killing yourself. I was there in court, but you weren’t. That wasn’t you.
I raised your kids for 5 years while you did your best impression of Ricky Bobby’s father in Talledega Nights.
I made amends with the woman you kept secret. The one you left me for, knocked up, and returned to me.
You’re my dad reincarnated.
You make me sick. But I’m your old lady.