I sit here, cross-legged, dog in my lap and laptop struggling to stay online.
In my little home, a box with wheels. Small and all I could ever need.
Phone propped near the door to catch a WiFi signal so I can hotspot it into my cave.
LED lamp glowing, this is a real haven.
Writing final letters to mom and dad.
So much joy inside me, I’ve never known happiness in my life before this year.
Never knew what it meant to feel calm, feel soothed, feel whole.
The void of chaos no longer confusing.
It’s so quiet inside my house.
Keyboard keys clicking, telling mom things she already knows but pretends not to.
Telling her one final goodbye.
She won’t take it well and it’s not my responsibility.
Move Dora out of my lap, plug in my phone and move it to get better reception. I’m not willing to open the door yet, it still smells like sex and cologne, and I don’t mind either.
My liberation has required I give up people.
Tonight I say goodbye permanently to parents who’ve failed me.
And here I am, still standing, filled with joy.
