so, tomorrow my second parents are moving. They have lived in their house 10 years longer than my parents did in this house, and I have never known a time when they weren't there. Their youngest child, their only daughter has been my friend since I was 11 and she was 9, and she is moving them into a retirement home closer to her house.

It's her choice. it's not the one I made, but she's not me. She has a life, I didn't at the time, or even since. I don't blame her, I'm just really, really fucking sad. It was her house I ran to when it all got too much for me here, when the ridicule and the physical  assault got too much. Her parents were, and continue to be in love, mine did not even tolerate each other very well most of the time. They were mean and I think they hated me. Hers were loving, supportive. They had time for her. And they talked to me.

They have been there for me since my parents died. I have hid at their house most days for at least a little while. We have shared food, and if I was short a couple of eggs, that's who I called. She taught me to make Italian food. I made her soup, and sometimes chicken if she needed it. I used my nursing skills to tend to Mr Murphy's life threatening wound. I shoveled their sidewalks and took out their trash. I calmed frantic Fran when she needed it. and tomorrow, they will be gone.

Just a few miles up the road, but I don't have a car or a driver's license. also, I'm a drunk.  and they are in their 80's. and the only time their daughter ever calls me is when she needs me to do something for them, and if they aren't there, she won't ever call me again and I will lose yet another friend. so she'll be gone too.  this is too hard.

I just went and asked my husband for comfort. instead, he tried to justify to me the decisions she made. I don't care about that, I just want someone to hold me and listen to me and hand me a hanky because I can't fucking stop crying about this. he's drunk and stoned and I am not. and I am jealous. I feel like nobody understands me or anything about what I might need. And that makes me pathetic, and a loser, and tomorrow, I'm going to buy some more bourbon, because, well, Jim Beam, he gets it. or he doesn't care. one way or another, I'll be looking out my bedroom window into a dark house for the first time tomorrow night. no more accidentally left on light in the kitchen. no more light in Mr Murphy's room when he gets up late to go to the bathroom. they will be one more set of people that will be lost to me, and I will keep on forgetting who I am, or who I used to be, and no way of figuring out who I might be in the future. lost again.