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teresa part III

August 16th, 2001

Thinking about everything while I drove out to Teresa’s grandmother’s house that day, I began to realize that things where falling apart. I could hear in Teresa’s voice a cold, dull sound, kind of like the empty metallic echo of an oil drum. I don’t quite know what it was that made me realize it but I somehow new it was over. After I picked up Michael it all hit me. Hard. Seeing him sit in the car, a week from his third birthday and knowing somewhere deep inside that I would not see his forth birthday I lost it. I was crying by the time I got to the Papa Johns where Teresa worked. As I parked the car in front of the store and turned the engine off I looked at Micheal and just shook my head. Michael unbuckled his seat belt and crawled onto my lap and brushing one of my tears away said:

“Ouchy? Dada, ouchy”

“No, I’m ok,” I replied, “go inside and see your Mom, I have to go to work… I’ll see you later”

With this I opened the door and let Michael out, I watched him go up to the door and struggle to get it open. Inside he climbed up into a chair and pressed his face up to the glass and as he waved to me I backed the car out of the parking space and drove out of Michael’s life. I never saw him again.

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