” I think The Kiddo goes to that school, too” I texted.
Then I stopped to think for a moment.
My best friend dropping her son off for school could mean a casual passing by of The Kiddo. She would be breathing the same air, in the same place where he went to learn. The same place where he spent eight hours a day. The place where his name and artwork likely adorned some classroom board.
I heaved, feeling nauseous, and the walls felt as though they were crumbling in on me.
I’m so far away from him, was all I could think.
Yet, even when I was that close, right there, I was still as far away from him as I am now, only difference is that miles separate us.
I rolled over in my bed to grab my Kobo when my eyes filled with tears.
I want to be that close. I want to see him.
It’s not fair.
“Why am I crying over this?!” I demanded to no one.
I shoved my face into my pillow and groaned. It’s these tiny moments, the ones where I just don’t see them coming, the ones when I recognize the little seemingly insignificant things that I miss, that I want to have. Even something as meaningless as sharing the same air, and city as him. I felt jealous of my best friend for a moment, wishing that I could be as lucky as her to be in the same place, knowing I was once in the same place, so close, but yet so far.
The tears were short lived, and I pushed myself back into a rational space. There was no need to jealous, because there was nothing that could be done. Even if I was there, what could I possibly do or say? Chances are if I had enrolled my parented son in the same school there would have been more fallout from The Kiddo’s parents, more lines drawn, and more obstacles to overcome later. It would have been worse.
Yet, I still want. I’ll always want. I’ll always wish for those small instances of something because when you have nothing, something seems much better.