stepping back

My tickets arrived at work today and I needed to complete my time sheet. So, after the doctor, we headed up to work to collect the tickets and fill out my time sheet so I can pay for the tickets.

While I was there, figuring out how to comp time for employees that had stayed late yesterday, my phone rings. It's Ashley.

Hey, can I come by today to get some of my stuff?
We won't be home until 2:30
OK, well, can I go in?
No, the code on the garage has been changed, you will need to wait until one of us is there.
So I can't come over unless your there anymore?
I can not discuss this with you now, if you want, we can discuss it when you get there.
OK, I'll call you at 2:30.

James, next to me states -- Whoa.
It doesn't even phase me. I reply, My 18 year old.
He is too new to know all the drama that everyone else has witnessed over the past two years I have been at that store.

2:30 on the dot she calls again. We will be home in five minutes.

She comes to the door, which is locked. I let her in. She has that smug smile on her face, and her tone is no different. She tells me again she didn't take the pills, but even if she had, would she admit it? So how do you know the truth? You don't.

She begins collecting things, items, all things we have bought or provided her with. She asks if we are going to keep them until she gets done with bootcamp.
Yes.
You can call your dad when you are settled, we will ship them to you, and your last strings to us will be cut, you are free.
You assume that is what I want.
It's what you want when you are here, you only want more when you have nothing else.
I judge you based on the past, not so distant at that.
Then how do you know if I am doing good?
I don't, you have never allowed me into the good things, only the bad. So if you are doing good, I hope you continue, you are 18, no one can save or protect you any longer. You speak to me in that condescending tone and smug look, you haven't spoken to me in six weeks, only when you finally got it through your head you are not coming home.

She is packing a backpack, that was left on the kitchen counter.

Can I take Hannah shopping tomorrow for her birthday?
No.
Why?
Because I don't want her riding with you, who is driving?
Me.
In who's car?
Chanell's dad's.
That you aren't insured for? No. Call her on her birthday. You and Hannah aren't that close anymore, remember?

She left the shirt we had made for her in Hawaii. She left the wood chimes we bought for her in Hawaii. That she has always loved, that she has always wanted. They are on her floor, discarded as we are.

I am stepping back. Maybe it is because I feel like I am dying inside. Maybe it is because I see all my faults, my mistakes. Maybe it is because I no longer trust. Maybe it is because I am judged. Maybe it is because I feel like a failure. Maybe it is because the screen is blurred through tears. Maybe because it just sucks and nothing can draw me out. Who knows what the future holds.

Weddings, funerals, births? Maybe all of them.