Yesterday Was a Good Day


There is no rhyme or reason. It is 4 A.M, and I sit on the floor beside her, rubbing her back. Except for just being here, I am helpless to make any real difference at the moment. I am the best friend who holds back her hair, except this is not from some stupid self-inflicted debauchery. This is her life. She has chosen to make her bed on the floor. I contemplate doing the same to be closer to her. The regular companions snuggle in around her. They are familiar with what the sounds mean. She is finally asleep in her bed. I check on her one last time. I pull the blankets up to my chin. It is now 7:20. Jayde's bathroom and trash can are once again clean—hopefully, for the final time. The laundry from the night's episode lies in the hallway. It can wait until later. Chris is peacefully asleep. I envy my sweet husband's ability to sleep/snore through anything. The episodes are becoming more frequent. The respite we enjoyed for a year seems like a distant memory. She has started losing weight again. I fear what this all could mean. I begin to doze off, only to hear her up once more. Yesterday was a good day. Then again, they usually are.

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