End Of. 

After five hours in meditation this afternoon, my mother and I finally reached an “agreement” and settled out of court. I get Jake one weekend every month (that I get to choose), every holiday (like, every single one— Labor Day, President’s Day, fucking Columbus Day— he will be with me), every spring break, every summer vacation (for the entire duration of the summer), every single birthday (mine, his, his mom’s, every. birthday. ever.) and we split travel fees 50/50. A bunch of other stipulations apply too, like Jake is not allowed to move homes or change schools unnecessarily, my mom is no longer allowed to drink when he’s with her, no strange guys around Jake (meaning no more booty calls for my mother— bummer!), Jake has to have his own room within the next 30 days, etc. It’s not a win, it’s not a lose, it just is what it is. 

After a year and a half and almost nine thousand dollars later, this is what it has come to. Make of it what you will. I’m not stoked but at the very least, I get to see him for more than 30 days a year. That’s a victory in it’s own right, though it really shouldn’t be…

§Rainbows & Skeletons§


“This is what your story’s about. My precious little boy, can you figure it out? If it helps to know so there is no doubt, just listen to the stories. Not everything is glorious. Some hurt. Some love. Some shout. I fought the world and I lost that bout— but you are what my life is about. I might’ve been gone but I never walked out” — Blue October, The Worry List