In Spite Of Prayers

I spend a lot of my time in my head. Thinking about how badly my drug addiction could’ve ended, my self harm, my self destruction. The thing that always kept me here was the thought of what the people I love will have to deal with if I leave them behind. Who is going to feed the dog before I leave for school? Do the dishes on Tuesdays and Thursday? Be there for mom to bounce design ideas of off? It’s not the things that I would have taken with me that tear me up, it’s the things I would have left behind. Seeing all those moments without me doesn’t feel freeing, I feel like my dog needs a playmate, my family needs a son, my mom needs a hug and to know her hard work it worth it. Making this piece is a reminder, a euphemism for this situation. Polite because you don’t get to see what happens after this young man’s father walks into the garage. I imagine this fictional characterization of myself ran this shop with his father like we ran our home. Without him, a gap beyond the emotional is there. A space where someone they loved used to fill. I never want to have my space be empty. When I’m ready and old I’ll say goodbye and hand my space to whoever comes next.