He told me I am blessed.
That I do have a strong foundation.
Two of the most important pillars to stand upon: God and Family.
The words of encouragement instantly make me cry as these two entities slowly but surely drain from my life.
God, already gone. Family close behind.
I ask myself what’s left.
Love.
There is always love.
I seek love, yearn for it. It often escapes me.
Life without God is hard.
I’m agnostic.
Not by choice.
If it were up to me I’d bask in His glory with hands raised and heart open once again and always.
I’d always have someone there.
A listening ear, a constant comfort, the greatest force worthy of all worship, a frickin’ god that I'd be lucky enough to call my best friend.
I loved it.
I miss it.
But my brain gets in the way.
The silence he gives me outweighs the comforting presence I myself created.
Family.
It’s hard when you have family but no rock. No constant shoulder.
The support is there but so are the mistakes.
He tells me he’s always going to be there for me while he is awful to her.
Delusional of his overwhelmingly crushing crimes.
And the others are busy. Rightfully busy with their busy lives.
Hate to complain.
Hate to need.
Refuse to ask.
These pillars he credits to me are nothing but pillars of sand.
They sink swiftly, transform to quicksand and I drown.
My rock.
My strength.
Nothing but pillars of sand.