I haven't been able to talk about it, much less WRITE about it. It's one of those subjects that I want to ignore, that I try to pretend isn't even there. But today I thought about it so much, as I do everyday.

She used to wake up with him; long before she had to serve her duty to the day.

Simply to be with him, sipping tea with him, and queitly whispering to him. Her eyes barely open from exhaustion but her smile was so big and her face radiated an emotion I knew not the concept of. It always seemed to me, at the naive age of 10, that she ought to just stay in bed...why lose the extra sleep?

I would hear them, morning after morning, softly conversing and silently moving past eachother with love. The faint music was my favorite part of them...it was all around them. And his voice would sing out to her regardless of her presence;that tone belonged to her.

I was a creative young girl, and once in class I was told to draw happiness. My father and Karen together, was the only image that came flowing from my crayons. From those days forward...that picture in my mind served as a stable ground for me. Through all of the unwanted changes, I could rely on those two figures passing gracefully through life.

Throughout drastic ammendments, they still sat in that sun room year after year, giggling over the same seemingly mindless chatter with eye contact that sealed their hearts. Their smiles remained on eachother's faces, and the demeanor in which they approached eachother meant more to them then I will ever understand.

Who knew almost 10 years later I'd answer the phone to an emotionally ailing sister? This was the girl I'd grown with since I can remember, and never once did I hear sadness in regards to our parental situation. I almost didn't understand...

Seperation? New home? Failure?

What did that mean and how could it coincide with my model for life and love?! Sounded much like change to me, and behind my dramatically flowing tears I looked for some denial to cling to. I wanted nothing more than to say to her,
"Sorry dear, but you're mistaken! This surely cannot be the person you are trying to reach"

And just like that I could shut her out and hang up the phone with the notion that their love was still blossoming as it had for so long.

Still it didn't sink in till the calls kept coming...every night I'd hear those horrific details and the melancholy tone in her voice as she kept on about,

Alone
Different
Never the same...