I’m doing this alone.

Exhausted-

Some days,

I force myself out of the comfort of my bed.

I do it angry,

so angry inside

-I’m clawing and screaming-

but silently,

so they don’t see.

I do it heartbroken,

so heartbroken for them-

crying in the shower

where my tears disappear

down the drain with the water.

Out of sight.

Out of mind.

I explain it all,

so they understand

just enough

to keep their minds

from racing,

like mine

I get up.

I go to work.

I cook all the meals.

I drive all the miles.

I watch every game.

I wipe every tear-

each one that falls

because they don’t understand

why they aren’t wanted.

But still-

I get to do this alone.

I provide for them-

they have their wants and needs.

I cook all their meals-

90’s county music

and dancing included.

I drive all the miles-

car concerts are non-negotiable.

I watch every game-

They'll never wonder

if mom is in the stands.

I wipe every tear.

I hear every worry

every fear.

I am their safe place

And then-

he stepped in.

He loves them the same.

With a ferocious, powerful love-

the kind of love

a dad has

for his children.

They’ll never have to wonder

if he’s there-

like they do you.

He stepped in and

He stepped up-

but he’s more than a “stepdad”.

He goes to work.

He provides.

He cooks the meals.

He drives the miles.

He watches the games.

He wipes the tears.

He…

is their safe place, too.

And now-

I don’t do this alone.

We get to love them.

We get to show them

what love looks like-

and show them

they are worthy of love.

We get to see the smiles,

hear the laughs.

We watch the worry

and the wondering

melt from their eyes.

There’s less weight in their questions.

There’s more light in their hearts.

Less worrying…

Less wondering…

And more happy

than sad.

We dont just survive anymore.

We have each other.

And we are not alone.