Two Weeks

I lied. I didn't write about his intake. It's because it pretty much sucked and I was too tired, too sad, to write about it. Nothing can prepare a parent for that. I can't remember ever crying that much in one week, except for the time his father abandoned us. 

He ran away just a few days in. It scared me a lot. I burst into tears when I got the news at work, on a school bus. The other driver just came over and stood there looking at me. Get the hell out of my face. You have no clue how much my heart is breaking, and I can't stand trying to explain it to people who think they know everything.

He was found right away (what can I say, we've had plenty of practice tracking him down?) We went to Taco Bell and then talked in the car for three hours. 

A week later, he ran away again. This time i was ready for it. I got really mad. I set alarms on our doors, and left town for a day to drink a margarita and enjoy a night out with the Girls. 

He showed up late at night, after being missing for 24 hours. I was still away. He did it that way so nobody would take him right back. He had also used again. Time to restart the clock. 

He slept in the bottom bunk in his sister's room that night. When I got home, I knelt down, brushed his hair out of his face and hugged him while he was asleep. He awoke and hugged me back so hard I could barely breathe. 

I'm glad you're here, I whispered. 

Me too, he said. 

He went to church with us the next morning, then we returned him that afternoon with no promises of anything, only expectations spelled out for him. It was pretty rough. 

It wasn't as rough, however, as the next time I was able to take him to church. On the way home he spit out foul words, expressing how pathetically weak he believed I was. "A F---ing weak Mother", to be exact. It stung. It stung hard. I bit my lip to keep the tears inside. I wouldn't engage. This just made him furious. 

He needs me to be weak, it's the only way he can get out of here unscathed. He needs me to crumble, and rescue him. 

Nope. Not happening. I love him too much. 

More vile words, more threats, more seething anger spilling out of this child's mouth. It's not me. It's not me. I had to repeat it over and over. I hugged him goodbye anyway. He said he was really sorry for what he'd said earlier. 

I forgive you. See you in a couple days.