Existing

I'm existing. I wake up every morning at 7:50AM and I get her ready for school. I make sure that her body is fresh, her teeth are brushed, that she has on her best outfit, her hair is combed and she's had breakfast. I make sure that she gets to school on time, some days we're late, but I've done a pretty good job of being on time for the most part. I walk her to the front doors, I kiss her good bye and then I start my day. Only there's nothing to really start.

Some days I remember to eat breakfast, some days I remember to smile and be thankful. Some days like Fridays I look forward to her coming home from school so that I can do something exciting for her, maybe get out the house and live a little. Everyday I check my email, I wait for a phone call with an offer, or  maybe just an interview. Everyday I search the internet for new jobs, everyday I apply, I write cover letters, and I re-do my resume hoping that this new change will make the difference that all of the other 50 didn't. Everyday I lose just a little bit more hope that this great big dream I had is really going to come true.

Every single day this year I've cried, every single day I've wiped my tears and dried my face so that she'll never know just how hard this is for me, just how worried I am, or how sad I've become. When it's time to pick her up every afternoon from school I'm there with what I can muster up to call a smile. I hug her, ask her about her day. I am happy that my sadness hasn't overshadowed her ability to enjoy life, to live. I am glad that she has an escape. We come home and do homework, some days go to the park. I make sure she has dinner, sometimes I remember to eat mine. She looks forward to tomorrow and the exciting day she'll have at school...and I count the hours until bed time because I just want this day to be over like the one before and others before that. So that I can wake up and do the same thing all over again, so that I can make sure she lives, while I exist.