# 2.

Summer does offer me one timid reprieve. The beach.
It's gloriously cool water and golden warm sand. Nothing feels so good as rolling down that last stretch of road, watching the water get closer with the salty air sliding in through the open windows and the loud music rolling out of the tinny car speakers.
If only I could hold my breath and live submerged beneath that inky blue water, what a simple way to fill those daunting 7 months.
I'm kidding myself when I try to tell myself things will be all better then. But how else do we get by?

I remember once, early morning on the beach standing in the salty spray that glittered my lips and watching a tiny butterfly dancing through the air around me. I felt something that day, but I can't remember what it was. A feeling or a fleeting thought. It escaped me all too soon though and oh, how I wish I could get it back. It seems profound...or it would if I had held onto it. All I have now is the image, burned into my winter-craving mind.

The mountains and the ocean. Both so different and yet my complex heart yearns for them both.And then there is our ramshackle house, 2 hours from the sea and 2 hours from the hills- perfectly placed to make getting out a hard task. This house seems to tie me down lately. I want so desperately to escape it, but it has me by the jugular. Family tends to do that.
I hate dependency, it makes being independent so difficult.
And yet I can't just uproot and fly away. The boys need me now more than ever. Evan especially. His facade is so transparent- a not-so-tough guy playing with the big boys.

I hate Them for what happened. For what They left me with. I am in no way capable of running things here. And since when is it okay for parents to spread their own wings? Once the family is in place, the parentals have to stick with it until the children fly the coop. It's the rules and rules, despite what is oft' said, are not made to be broken. That's why I am still here in this house, even though I'd rather be anywhere else.