More than a year ago, I posted my last blog. Since then many things happened and in a way it didn’t. After more than a year I am still at the same spot where I left my last blog; wondering if Homeboy and I mist our chance, 18 years ago.

It’s a late sundayafternoon. I haven’t spoken to anybody over the weekend. Except my son who now and then came out of his room for some food. No one called me, texted me or wanted to know how I was doing. I can honestly say I am lonely. I wish there was somebody I could trust and talk to. I wish I had a best friend, I can call on anytime like so many people call me when they need help and I do help everybody in any way I can. But I got screwed over so many times, I stopped trusting people. I stopped talking with people or even ask for help. Asking for help means you’re vunerable and they can and will take advantage of you.

‘You never ask!’ my dad yelled at me the other day, when I went to him with a legal issue. ‘You never ask anything.’ he accused me again to emphasize the fact it’s all my fault, not theirs. Just between you and me, the reason why I never ask, is because the last time I did ask for their help they sent me to a psychiatrist to have me valued as insane and took away my daughter. I didn’t get help, I was pushed even more into the shithole by my own parents and it took me years to get out of it again.

I’m half way my life and wondering if it ever does get better. When you’re in your twenties you have no worry about it. Ofcourse it will get better. When you reach your thirties, this little voice in your head starts to appear more often than you want, whispering ‘what if it doesn’t get better?’. Suddenly you have to face the fact that you’re half way your life. It never gotten better. It actually gotten worse. You got a chronic disease, your daughter left with a douchebag and your son turned out to be autistic. Your struggling to earn money and the father of the children dissapeard more than a decade ago into thin air, leaving you with legal issues that need to be solved. An these facts are just only the highlights. More than once I look up into the sky and asked aloud: ‘Anything else?’ It was meant as a rhetorical question but often interpret as given more shitload to handle so I had to stop asking that question.

The only calmth in my storm is Homeboy. We look at each other and we are home. He invited me to dinner just after Christmas. The whole evening was indescribable magical. The lights, the music and the mystic mist hanging over the whole night. He couldn’t stop staring at me and I couldn’t stop talking. Afraid of what might happen if I stopped talking. I looked at him and he looked at me. ‘What if,’ I asked him, ‘what if it was just you and me, no children, no spouce, would you have stayed with me?’ He looked at me and nodded. ‘Without a doubt.’ he said. It was the only thing I needed to hear.

The mist dissapeared, the lights went off and the music stopped playing. We missed our chance 18 years ago. He got his life and I am still sitting here on a pile of shit that is called my life. If only I turned the corner, 18 years ago. If only…..

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