A Terrible Wish

“We would all be happier if you were gone.”

I realize before the words even finish spilling out of my open mouth that what I have said is terrible.

Unforgiveable, even.

The sudden silence in the room tells me that much, and I feel the sparks in our veins threaten to light up all at once.

But you must understand, the intent behind the words...I didn’t mean them that way.

If you were not in the room right now, we wouldn’t be having this argument. If you didn’t live in this house, you wouldn’t wake him (or me, for that matter) with your awful, thundering yells echoing through the walls. If you walked out that door and ceased to exist in our memories...I bet our lives would be all the more peaceful.

You must understand--I don’t wish for your death, or your demise. I don’t wish to see you suffer, or weep. I don’t desire retribution.

If only you could simply be plucked out of our lives, and placed on a little, dirt path that always wound out of reach, never intersecting our own. If only there was a way to melt the glue that held us together without burning us both.

When I say “gone,” I really mean just...not here.