chris asking about dinner, it wasn't the question itself but the endlessness of it, the unbroken chain of meals and dishes and feeding that feels like a black hole swallowing me whole, i almost screamed, but i didn't, i just stared at him, blank, and he flinched, like he finally saw the weight of it all, the crushing weight, the kind that leaves bruises on your soul, and then the guilt, the tidal wave of it, because he's trying, he IS trying, he just doesn't understand what it's like to be the sun, burning yourself up to give everyone else light, the minivan smells like barf now, i need to clean it but i'm too tired, maybe i’ll start drinking in the minivan.