When I was 24 I got my first apartment by myself.
You were paying your father rent to live at his house.
You’d come sleep over on your days off and we had
space to discover ourselves. It repulsed me that he
made you pay half your check to live in his house.

You paid $450 per month, but your Aunt appeared
like a landspout offering your dad $550 for your room.
Your Aunt just inherited a new car, and offered her
legacy inheritance, your grandfather’s van,
at a profit.

Your father only saw dollar signs and quickly moved
your bed into the living room, while you still paid him rent.
The van you paid $2000 for began to stall within the first month.

I’d come sleep with you in the living room so you didn’t
feel so alone, because my Dad would never. Your father
was always jealous of you, even more so when I would
lay with you during your darkest times.

We were building something real, and he couldn’t stand it.

He messaged me saying that you needed to be out by
the end of the month and he was renting a truck. He told me
your belongings would be out on the curb and you would be
homeless if I didn’t pick them up and let you move in with me.

Your job was a quick bike ride from your father’s house, while
my apartment was 45 minutes away.

Within a month, the legacy inheritance your Aunt profited off of,
after stealing your bedroom died in the parking lot.
You lost your job, the endless cycle of survival never stopped.
We never got to make the decision to be together, to live together,
To decide who we were or what we wanted. Your father ended your
phone plan while you had no job, so I added you to mine.

Every facet of our lives became intertwined,
even our resentment.
We were angry your father stole that decision
from us, but were too busy surviving to notice it at the time.

He wanted you to feel small, so he extracted all he could from us.
When you’d ask for help, he cried wolf broke as he sent $40,000
in crypto to someone pretending to love him. My intuition made him seethe, because I could see that no matter how much he studied he could not –
reach the divine.

He stole our chance to fall in love, but not our ability to love each other
unconditionally. When I said best friends forever, I meant it.
We have navigated tougher waters together,
but at least this time, this one is our choice to make.

And with the masks dropped, the deep sadness can rise,
while we mourn the death of competitive and transactional love,
and redefine what family means.

He took everything we had, just so he could pay a
stranger on the internet to talk to him like he’s a God.